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... apped by poison, stirred faintly from the commotion going on around her, her consciousness flickering like a briefly lit candle in a storm.

Through her blurred vision, a familiar silhouette solidified—Asher, standing defiant against the Dreadspine Serpent.

"Asher...run...now...." Lysandra's voice was barely a whisper, strained and weak, yet carrying the weight of desperate urgency.

Asher's expression tightened, and he wondered why this woman had come all the way here to t ...

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