The mountain passes leading into the Razor Peaks were a realm of perpetual winter, where howling glacial winds whipped blinding flurries of dry snow across jagged granite defiles. As the Bilateral Vanguard marched higher into the clouds, the temperature plummeted far below zero, turning breath into ice crystals and coating the obsidian armor of the southern infantry in glittering white frost. Yet despite the brutal conditions, the spirits of the…
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