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Chapter 110: Arena III
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... tirred, as if the very fabric of reality leaned in to listen. The black-starlit ocean shifted, its waves no longer random but deliberate—like breath. The constellations above trembled, rearranging themselves into new patterns, glyphs that none of them recognized but all instinctively understood: acknowledgment.
Fenric lowered his hand, silver flames coiling into a steady spiral around him. His gaze swept the horizon, sharp and unyielding. "It hears us. It agrees. The throne-world doesn’t ...
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