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Chapter One Hundred And Seventy Two

Then the spear moved like they waited on cue, firing into Haspan's chest like a bullet.

Baron rose slowly, shoulders rising and falling, blood dripping down his arms, ribs cracked, hands smoking-

-but ready for round two.

Because Haspan was not done.

And neither was Baron.

Injuries healed.

"Stand back, witches." Haspan shouted.

Soldiers poured in from every corridor-armor clanging, boots thundering, blades raised. They circled Baron and the witches like a tightening ring of ...

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