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... orn not of calm but of dread suspended. Soldiers whispered in low voices. Mages kept their hands near their belts, their runes half-etched and glowing faintly. Horses shuffled nervously, their eyes wide with something older than fear.

Leon had not crossed the threshold. But he had answered.

The gate no longer pulsed. It stood inert, as if satisfied with the taste of his defiance. Yet something had changed. The snow had stopped, the wind dead. Even the sky above—grey and cracked l ...

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