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For war.

The voice dipped to reverence.

"Back from the Black Fall. From the Ash of Hellscape. From death, from bone, from void. The Whisperer of Death... the Demon Blade... IAN."

Stillness. Then chaos. The Crucible wept, roared, screamed. Ian did not move. He breathed. Once. His fingers curled around air.

The daggers glinted.

And the announcer said—

"Begin."

———

The sand whispered beneath their feet.

Ian and Vorgan stoo ...

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