The Distant Blade
The rain did not fall so much as it struck. It hammered the tin roof of the outpost, a relentless, rhythmic assault that drowned out the wind. Elias stood in the center of the room, soaked to the bone. The water ran down his face, mixing with the sweat and the grit of the earth that clung to his skin. He held the rifle loosely by his side. It was a heavy thing, an old friend, but tonight it...
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