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Chapter 71: Ghastly Hunger
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... oman who seemed to be in her twenties.
Her form, outlined only by the faintest slivers of light, seemed carved from the absence of color itself. Her hair, though shaped by unseen movement, was a mass of darkness, blending seamlessly into the abyss that surrounded her. A single ornament rested against her head in the same muted nothingness that composed her being.
The sword she held was a sliver of midnight steel, its edge catching just enough light to exist, while the hilt coiled ...
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