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... less — like a bonfire of a beast had finally run out of fuel.

The stench of rot was still thick in the air, but without the beast’s looming presence, it felt... manageable. Somewhat distant to the nose.

His legs were jelly, his shoulders on fire, and every breath scraped against his ribs like rusted nails.

He limped forward, past Kara and Tobias, past Bran — who was still admiring the shimmering boss core — and toward the twitching remains of the monster.

His swor ...

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