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“I hate it.”
Sixth Imperator Dav Ar’Vahn stood at the edge of the Shifting Sands, astride his mighty Stonethew that knew only devotion to him. He was clad in orichalcum armor inscribed with the very best protective arrays, weapons that could level thousands of Untempered, and possessed an army thirty-thousand strong at his back—and yet he was jealous.
“So much green,” he said through a sneer. “Such…abundance.”
Beyond the boundaries of the Sacred Necropolis, wh ...
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