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Chapter 18: What the Holy Maiden Knows
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They didn’t spiral. They went straight down in a long, brutal descent that made Draven’s calves burn after the first hundred steps. The stone was smooth — too smooth, like it had been polished by ten thousand feet walking this exact path over centuries. The temperature dropped with each step. Not gradually. In waves. One moment it was comfortable, the next his breath misted white in front of him.
"This is different," Marcus said from behind him. Stating the obvious, but nobody call ...
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