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... was just too sharp.

What he did not expect was the scream.

Not from the heart—but from the walls.

The murals convulsed, their half-dragon inhabitants writhing as the blade drank deep. The obsidian darkened further, its surface now streaked with veins of gold that pulsed in time with the sigil beneath their feet.

Thick, viscous blood began to ooze from the heart's wound, far more than should have been possible for an organ its size. Kain dropped the dagger at his ...

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