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... draped in a sling conjured hastily by Lysa.

Every so often, he winced when the wind caught the bruises on his ribs—or when he realized no one was paying him any attention.

The others walked ahead, their mood subdued.

"I counted three distinct mana signatures embedded in the obelisk," Fenric said as they crossed a stone bridge, the city walls just ahead. "Not just corruptive mana. Something older. Constructed."

Serene gave him a sidelong glance. "So not just someo ...

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