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... o talk as we were carried up to the Floating Island of Death. A flying sword was clearly not designed with safety or seatbelts in mind, but it was surprisingly stable. It didnt rock or tilt in the slightest.

Old Hengar kept one hand behind him on my shoulder and another hand in front of him on Wen Xues shoulder. He kept a firm grip on both of us while the air rushed by. It was too noisy to easily move. We had been flying through the night and most of the morning, fairly high up as well, ...

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