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... es that had once been men, goblins, even gods. All devoured, transformed, and used as tools by Val'Tareth.

Alexander was surrounded.

But he was undaunted. The light around him flared, not from magic, but from will.

"If I must die here," he said quietly, "at least I will die as myself."

Val'Tareth did not attack directly. He lifted a finger, and hundreds of shadowy figures charged.

And Alexander moved.

His sword—the Fang of Dawn—was no longer just a ...

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