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Chapter 178: The Queen’s Larder
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Chapter 180: The Iron Festival
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... rey sky. It smelled of burnt resin and charred chitin. It was a heavy scent that clung to the back of the throat.
Vane stood at the edge of the woods. He cleaned the blue blood from his spear with a rag. His movements were slow and methodical. The adrenaline of the fight was fading. It was replaced by the dull ache of bruised ribs and the deep muscle fatigue that came from channeling the [Silver Fang] for too long.
Isole sat on a mossy rock nearby. She held a canteen in her hands ...
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