Chapter 157 The Mirror Queen Of Thorns
The wind carried shards of frost and whispers as the trio journeyed toward the Shattered North. Each step crunched against glassy snow and jagged crystal. Trees—what few survived here—stood gnarled and black, wrapped in vines that shimmered like threads of moonlight.
Isabella clutched the flame-touched compass, watching its trembling needle. It spun less violently now, its point pulling ever northward toward something hidden beneath the ice.
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