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... deep it seemed to weigh down the air itself. Along the blackstone walls, torches burned low, their flames flickering uncertainly against a mist that no longer pressed forward but circled lazily, like a predator biding its time.

Valtor moved with cold precision along the northern rampart. His eyes—sharp, restless—scanned every crack in the stone, every soldier's stance. No barking orders this time. Instead, his presence alone commanded discipline. Behind him, the newly trained watchmen a ...

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