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... d Mist River, sweeping past the temporary line of wooden stakes outside the camp, sending a chill down one’s spine.
Pal Calvin stood on a snow-covered rocky hill, clad in a silver-trimmed cloak, his expression stern.
He gazed into the distance, at the iron mine still buried under snow, where a prosperous mining town should have risen.
But reality was far from his original blueprint.
The permafrost underfoot remained as hard as iron, the tents had been torn by the ...
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