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... rone. By dawn, smoke choked the skies, painting the sunrise a sickly shade of red. Ash drifted through the air like falling snow, and every corner of the kingdom pulsed with unrest.

Within the thick stone walls of the royal citadel, the war council chamber thrummed with tension. King Aldric stood at the war table, surrounded by commanders whose armor bore fresh blood. His gaze was iron. "The gate holds for now. But they will strike again by nightfall. We must not falter."

Lysaro ...

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