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Chapter 5: A little twist.
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Chapter 7: Mask of Memories.
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... , shabby hut that seemed abandoned. The creaking of the worn-out wooden walls echoed faintly inside. The air felt damp, carrying a musty scent of decay and neglect. Veythor lay on a narrow cot, his body wrapped in makeshift bandages. The fabric clung to his skin, stained with dried blood and sweat. Every breath he took was shallow and labored; his chest rose and fell with agonizing slowness. For most men, such injuries would mean certain death. However, not for Veythor. Death had played with him ...
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