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Chapter 171: One Week Into The Resilient Mother Bastion
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Chapter 173: Eerie Doppelganger
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... antment, had a rhythm.
It was not a ceaseless march through the wastes—rather, it paused like a weary traveler at crossroads, docking at fellow bastions for spans of days or weeks.
These halts served as breaths in the journey—opportunities for trade to flow like vital blood, for weary legs to stretch on solid ground, and for the exchange of tales that bridged the isolation of nomadic life.
Provisions were bartered, alliances whispered in shadowed taverns, and the near non ...
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