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Chapter 130: Ash and Glass
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Chapter 132: The Blade’s Quiet
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... hill that had become so familiar he scarcely noticed it anymore.
He sat motionless on the narrow stone bench, back pressed against the cold wall of his cell, counting his own shallow breaths in the gloom.
Twenty-three... twenty-four... twenty-five...
How long had he been here? The days had melted into one another, marked only by the changing of torches in the sconces outside his cell. Three torch changes meant one day. Or was it four? The rhythm of time had become as unce ...
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