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Chapter 89: Grimoire
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Chapter 91: Grimoire III
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... ating bagpipe.
"I have... never... done anything... correctly before this moment," he gasped, clutching his own face like it might escape from joy overload.
The fused skeleton straightened, runes pulsing like twin heartbeats. It rotated its wrists experimentally—blade flashing, wand humming—and then set its feet in a stance that screamed ready to ruin someone’s day with artistic precision.
Fenric regarded it with the same enthusiasm a glacier has for seasonal holidays. ...
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