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... e bright moon like blood.
No one knows when, but a light mist rose in the middle of the night, the moon casting a faint crimson through the fog, as if foretelling the ominous slaughter of war.
The camp was brightly lit inside, while outside, a team of Celtic warriors guarded the main camp, with several more teams patrolling the night.
Duncan sat cross-legged on a sheepskin mat, bare-chested, his muscles outlined under the flickering candlelight like a mythological statue ...
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