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... > The undercroft had become a pit of howls and screams. The shrieks of young beasts echoed off the cracked stone. Somewhere to his left, someone screamed, a poor worker, or maybe a mercenary, cut short by the wet crunch of teeth meeting flesh. The scent of burning mana and iron filled the air, thick and acrid, coating Keiser’s throat until it burned to breathe.
Over the din, the sharper cries of men rang out, mercenaries barking orders, their voices rising in panic as something massive c ...
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