PREVIEW
... nge Cassius—not in any meaningful sense.
The realization sank into him like a blade, cold and unyielding, as he stared at the blood-drenched figure of his son standing before him, Edmund's spine dangling from his hand like some grotesque trophy.
Why?
Because in a mere forty-minute gap, Cassius had accomplished the impossible. He'd traveled to the Wyvern Mountains—a journey that took half a day to and fro on horseback, even at a relentless gallop—and slaughtered over a hun ...
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