The Distant Crown
The hammer fell with a sound like a bone breaking, and the crowd gasped not from fear, but from the sudden, violent clarity of the light that burst from the anvil. Elias Thorne stood in the center of the square, his back hunched under the weight of a leather apron stained with soot and old blood, his arms trembling not from fatigue, but from a rage that had been building for thirty years. He...
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