The Faded Frontier
The heavy oak doors of the Magistrate’s Hall groaned open with a sound like a dying breath, and I was already there, my hands slick with the red ichor of the last man who had tried to stop me, standing in the center of the polished stone floor while the silence of the great room pressed against my eardrums like deep water. I had expected the roar of the crowd, the clash of steel, the chaotic...
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