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The Genesis of the Dead

'What is my purpose?' He thought as he gazed at the carnage that surrounded him. With every step he takes countless perish, with every action countless mourn. Behind him legions so vast they cover the horizon and blot out the heavens. His soldiers, servants, friends, children. 'That's right.' He remembered with a tinge of melancholy, 'This is my purpose.' Author's note: High fantasy setting, with a heavy emphasis on action, army tactics, political schemes and world building. No harem and very little romance.

SkellyTheSkeleton · Fantasía
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66 Chs

Chapter 43

"That was incredible! I knew you all had it in you!" Finnick cheered the trio as he approached, his grin wide and infectious.

Vithorian, now steady on its feet, felt relief as its internal mana reserves gradually replenished. The three stood together, analyzing the recent battle with intense scrutiny, each lost in their own thoughts.

Vithorian was acutely aware of the limitations imposed by its mana capacity. If it had failed to take down the dagger-wielding woman, the consequences would have been dire. Defeat could have meant exposure as one of the dead, an outcome that would jeopardize the master's intricate plans.