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Chapter 8: The Dungeon
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... damp log, the heavy leather sack in his lap, and took a deep breath. The forest around him was alive with muffled noises—bugs chirping, wind whistling through twisted branches, the distant crack of some unknown creature dragging itself to its den.
He rolled his neck with a dull crack. Dried mud cracked in plates over his joints, a reminder of the day’s fights. His half-lidded eyes reflected only the pale system glow as he opened the mental interface with a single cold thought.
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