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Chapter 140: The New Path XVII
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... steam from the stew. Her armor was plain, brushed clean, oiled at the straps. Her face was the same as always—calm, hard, tired in a way you earn by seeing too much and saying too little.
John set his spoon down. "Evening, Elara."
Fizz sat up so fast his chair squeaked. He smoothed his whiskers with both paws and tried to look taller. "Hello, scary lady who pretends she is not nice."
Pim leaned across the table and stage-whispered to John, not even close to quiet. "The an ...
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