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Chapter 270: Out of the Whispering Valley
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Chapter 272: The Mer-folk protect the sheep tribe
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... me dizzy. One moment, he was a cynical gatekeeper spitting tobacco and trying to get me to pay the toll, and the next, he was practically trying to bury himself in the silt out of sheer terror.
"Stand up, Barkas," Noah said, his voice dropping into that low, resonant tone of authority. He didn’t sound angry, just... tired. "We’re not here for a royal procession. We just need to cross."
The Ferryman scrambled to his feet, his green scales slick with mud, his yellow eyes darting b ...
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