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... tep by step, hour by hour, his body driven by a grim instinct older than strategy: survive. The jagged earth beneath his boots cracked with every step, brittle and sharp, the dust rising with each footfall only to cling to his throat. His armor, once polished, was now a dull patchwork of dents and dried blood. The sword at his hip hung more like a burden than a weapon.

Behind him came three shadows, just as ruined, just as grim.

Lieutenant Kael walked with a slight limp, his left ...

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