PREVIEW

... now to the man striding in with purpose.

It was Joren Tael, the fighters' supervisor, a guy in his early twenties with short black hair and a stare that could cut through steel.

His tunic matched Charles's in color, but a stitched emblem on his chest—a circle with a stylized lightning bolt—marked his authority.

He held a wooden board with parchments clipped to it, his face a mix of irritation and fatigue.

Joren stopped in front of Charles, sizing him up from head ...

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- Description from novelbuddy