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... d like a primitive war drum, making the mud vibrate beneath their feet. There was no longer any retreat.

Maggie moved first. In a fluid motion, she spun her flail-halberd, the cold metal describing a silent arc in the heavy air. It wasn’t an attack, but a declaration: she was ready. At that same moment, the boar answered with a furious hoof strike, sending a spray of mud flying.

Élisa raised her free hand. Her stigma pulsed, a fleeting emerald glow rippling across her skin. The l ...

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