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... his sight, he fell in deep thought, his facing showing his inner conflict. After a while, he sighed defeatedly and walked back into the factory.

After half an hour later, a group of twenty or so people appeared in front of the factory.

In front of the group was a man around a thirty-year-old in sportswear and had a crossbow in his hand. A step behind him was another man. His complexion was dark, and he had a scar on his forehead.

These two were the main camp leader and th ...

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As a princess that could not wield magic, Princess Daphne’s only value to her kingdom was her arranged marriage. The task was simple, but when Daphne gets kidnapped and brought to the cold mountains of Vramid, she realizes that she’s in over her head.

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King Atticus Heinvres, the blood-thirsty ruler of the North.

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“Now… where should I put you both?” he asked casually, not expecting a reply. “It’s regretful that I only have one chandelier.”

“Underneath my bed? No, no, too dirty. My dust bunnies don’t deserve this,” Atticus mused to himself. “The mantlepiece? How about the vanity table? I suppose if I lop off one of your heads I could mount it over… Wife, which head do you want to stare at while you do your hair?”

“Atticus!” Daphne screamed. “I don’t want any heads! Let them go.”

“Fair enough.” Atticus shrugged, and flicked his fingers.

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Daphne gasped, horrified. This man, her husband, had just killed two men with a flick of his finger, as though he was snuffing out candles.

“I told you to let them go!” Daphne cried out.

“Yes, I let them go,” Atticus said. Then, his eyes darkened. “To receive divine judgment from the heavens.”

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