CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED AND FIFTY TWO

The acrid scent of clay hung thick in the air, a miasma interwoven with the faint tang of fear. Xander, his fists clenched, couldn't stand there any longer, a caged beast watching his prey chant insults. The man, a hulking form, stood by the racks, his gaze fixed on Xander, but his eyes, darting nervously, betrayed his vigilance. He was a watchman, a sentinel, placed there by the dragon group, the shadowy organization that had snatched his fiancée, Lina.

Xander's anger was a roaring furnace within him, fueled by a desperation that gnawed at his sanity. He had tracked them, followed the slithering trail of clues, leading him to this ramshackle pottery shop, a facade cloaking a dark secret.

With a roar, Xander lunged, a blur of fury. His fist connected with the man's jaw with the force of a battering ram, sending the watchman reeling backward. He crashed against the wall, but before he could find his footing, Xander was upon him again, his grip like a vise.

'Now,' Xander growled, his vo
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