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He never went back.
But he never stopped dreaming of the door. -ENG- Escape from the Village of Lustful Ritual...
“What’s that?” he shouted, slashing at a thorn hedge with the iron dagger. The plant recoiled, hissing. He never went back
He had been mapping the ley lines—the faint magical currents that underpinned the land. Most places had three or four. Veridienne had one . A single, pulsating artery of rose-gold energy that coiled beneath the village like a sleeping serpent. And at its center, buried in the root cellar of the old chapel, was the source: a stone altar carved with entwined bodies. And atop it, a chalice made of fused bone. a chalice made of fused bone.
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