PREVIEW

... stared at the tired and worn-out students.

"If they can't… I can."

A sharp voice rang out across the battlefield. "And I will make you pay for killing my friend!"

All eyes turned toward the new voice.

Viktor emerged from the smoke and rubble, walking with a bloodied limp. His once-vibrant yellow hair was matted with sweat and dust, and a tattered blue bandana clung stubbornly to his head.

Cuts marked his face and arms, and his shredded sleeves flapped with ...

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