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Chapter 1183: Morphisms (1).
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Chapter 1185: Warlords.
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... mained beneath it. The battlefield stretched endless and blackened, a scar across the plains where the Grid once hummed. Smoke still rose from the craters, curling like dying breaths into the cold air.
Cain stood in the center of the ruin, coat torn, his sword—{Eidwyrm}—half-buried in the cracked earth. The air was thick with the metallic tang of blood and iron dust. His every breath burned, every muscle screamed, but he didn’t move. His eyes, dark and cold, were fixed on the horizon whe ...
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