PREVIEW
... . There were no walls, no guard towers, no magical barriers humming in the air. The path was lined with white flowers that smelled sickly sweet—Funeral Lilies.
"No guards," Seraphina’s voice whispered in Alvian’s ear via the communication crystal. She was scouting ahead, invisible. "It’s wide open. The front doors are unlocked."
"It’s a trap," Valeria muttered, walking beside Alvian. She had drawn her claymore now, the blade resting on her shoulder.
"It’s arrogance," Alvi ...
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