Chapter 117: Rat Tunnels Beneath the Sacred Light

Elora's POV

The Holy City had no wind, no snow.

Only an endless, cloying heat that reeked of white sandalwood incense, thick and suffocating in the throat. Towering spires of pale stone pierced the overcast sky, their surfaces gleaming despite the gloom, and the streets below were draped in the Ch...

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