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... who had weathered countless storms, his axe resting upright against the arm of the seat. The weapon gleamed faintly,one could hardly believe that it had been his weapon for decades , during which it saw countless battles. Edvard, standing just beside him, couldn’t help but let his eyes drift to the axe, its hild worn and battered, triggering a wave of nostalgia.

He remembered the many spars he had with the Knotur as a boy. The heavy axe, far too unwieldy for his young hands, he had trie ...

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