I guess they were bad all the time. He dodged the boot this time, and smashed his left upon the Wastrel's lips, leaving them bloody pulp. ” “I believe you,” she murmured. A Hand that strove to reach his shoulder, relentless, soulless but lawful. Shakily, she rose with the sword and drove it through Rhea’s heart. It’s the rarest luck, the wildest, most impossible accident.
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