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Chapter 61: The Last Match
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Chapter 63: The Wager’s Collapse
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... r chants rolled like thunder from the stands, but their faces showed the same demand: blood.
Lucian stood in his corner, ribs aching, one eye swelling shut. Sweat dripped from his chin into the mud. His grin was still there, though it felt more like a mask holding him upright than anything else.
Berel hadn’t slowed once. Every swing carried weight meant to crush bone. Lucian had spent most of the round circling and without engaging. Each dodge bought him a breath, but his lungs o ...
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