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... into the valley.
The air reeked of rusted iron and rot, thick and cloying, as if the very earth remembered the slaughter that had taken place here. Mists clung low to the jagged terrain, and the sunlight, filtered through crimson haze, lent the rocks a sickly hue—like dried blood staining ancient bones.
Not a sound stirred.
Only the wind, thin and keening, whispered between the ravines like a mourner left behind.
Xiao Ning scanned the valley once, then walked to ...
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