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... l roars, their swords already swinging before their boots touched stone.

A defender lunged to meet the lead attacker, only for the enemy blade to carve through his throat in a crimson spray. The dying man staggered back, hands clutching at the ruin of his neck as the invader vaulted onto the battlements and planted his banner in the guts of another soldier.

But triumph was fleeting - a spear took the Oizenian in the side, punching through his mail with a metallic snick. He snarle ...

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