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... ould barely support my weight anymore, my back screamed in agony every time I tried to move, and each breath I took burned like there was a fire in my lungs.
My chest was tight, and I had lost most of the sensation in my right forearm — which felt like it was being roasted over an open flame.
That guy — Calem, was it? — had an exceptionally irritating innate ability.
Wounds inflicted by his sword didn’t just hurt. They burned.
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