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... as he sprinted forward, boots pounding the dirt. His breath came short, but irritation burned hotter than fatigue. Ahead, Liliana strode calmly with her four armored knights at her flanks, their formation too neat, too proud, as though they were marching to a ball instead of to certain death.
Luther darted in front of her and skidded to a stop, throwing his arms wide to block her path. "Are you mad?" he shouted, words sharp enough to draw the attention of passing villagers who lingered ...
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