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... tered, the Queen slain, the swarm broken.
What remained was the aftermath.
The wounded stretched in lines like fallen dominoes—dozens upon dozens of them. Some groaning. Some silent. Some barely hanging on.
And Darin walked among them.
He didn't wear armor. He didn't ride a warhorse or shout orders like a conquering general. But as he passed, people sat up. Heads turned. Eyes followed.
Each time he knelt, placed his hand upon a broken limb or scorched ches ...
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