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Chapter 121. Broken
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... paint, even as the sockets where his eyes once sat burned with a pain no spell could numb, Einar Sanguis did not scream.
The Sovereign Chamber dimmed around him, voices turning into echoes, archways into silhouettes. All sound blurred behind the hammering of his pulse, like a war drum pounding in a hollow cage.
He stood there, blind and bloodied, breathing slow. Measured. Almost reverent.
Like a priest welcoming pain as sacrament.
Freedom.
It was the only ...
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