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Chapter 540: The Cause
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Chapter 542: A game of politics
PREVIEW
... ere was no iron gate to pass through, no stone marker to signify we had crossed from the Border Territories into the Winter Plains, the supposed agricultural heartland of this empire.
There was only the feeling of the air changing, turning from the sharp, metallic tang of the capital’s unrest to something heavy and stagnant.
The land spoke before any man did. It spoke of abandonment.
On either side of the road, the winter wheat stretched toward the horizon, a sea of pale ...
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