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Chapter 93: They Are Making Rifts?
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Chapter 95: The Possible Reason
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... g, not even the usual rustling of branches. It was as if the trees themselves were holding their breath.
Inigo stood at the edge of the crater, boots sunk slightly into scorched soil. His shotgun hung loosely in one hand, barrel still warm. The air reeked of ozone and burnt magic. Somewhere behind him, Korrik was panting like a warhorse, while Arienne leaned against a tree, beads of sweat trickling down her brow.
"This wasn’t just a gate," Arienne finally said, voice hoarse. "It ...
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