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... aks of the Holy Moon Sect. Aukin sat on a polished stone bench, the chill of the ancient rock seeping through his robes, a pleasant counterpoint to the warmth of the sun. Below, clouds drifted like slow-motion rivers, parting occasionally to reveal the verdant valleys of Lingwu Continent. He watched a lone spirit crane spiral upwards, its call a thin, reedy whistle carried on the wind. A faint smile touched his lips. Life, even with its cosmic complexities, offered moments of profound, simple be ...
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