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... ar.
The word left his mouth and seemed to sit in the room rather than pass through it. The training chamber was sealed, stone-lined, and cold enough that breath could have been visible if the air had any kindness left in it.
It didn’t. It was dry, stale, and edged with the faint metallic bite that always clung to places where necromancy had been practiced too often. Somewhere behind Ludwig, his lantern’s glow held steady, but the light felt unwilling, like it was being forced to ...
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