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... lain like the heartbeat of a monster rising from the depths. Smoke, thick and bitter with oil and burnt wood, swirled across the churned battlefield, muting the morning light and turning the day gray and dismal. The Threian defensive line stood rigid, a wall of men and wood and hardened earth, pitted and scorched but not yet broken.
Captain Braedon adjusted his grip on the edge of the splintered fortifications, his gauntlet creaking as he leaned forward, peering through the smoke with na ...
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