The Pale Tower

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2026-08-25 07:32:52 -

The Pale Tower

I "Can you hold a line?" the commander asked, his voice flat as a dry leaf. Văn Phuong stood in the center of the stable loft, the air heavy with damp straw and the low, rhythmic breathing of the horses below. He did not answer immediately. His hand rested on the hilt of his sword, the metal cold against his palm, a temperature that seemed to seep into his bones. The question hung in the stale...

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