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... ors like an inevitable march, each beat bringing the forming mana storm closer. The destroyed hall still carried the heavy smell of burned flesh and dissipated corrupted mana, overturned tables forming improvised barricades, fallen chandeliers scattering broken crystals across the cracked marble floor, reflecting the faint light from the surviving floating lamps. Survivors grouped together in tense lines — a few injured mobs, some girls still panting from the residual trance of the Beast’s Scent ...

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