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... tly sloping hill, the tall grasses brushing against his boots as he approached the left flank.
The air was crisp despite the cold, with the scent of blood yet to be spilled.
Flags fluttered above ranks of disciplined soldiers in tight formation, the First and Third Legion, the pride of his army. Their armor caught the sunlight in glints and flashes, their shields polished, their eyes fixed and waiting, like hounds waiting for the order to pounce on the limping rabbit.
Jar ...
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