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Chapter 1135: Story : Children of the Chant
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Chapter 1137: Story : The Mark of Silence
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... e by one, but all at once—blinking out like candles smothered by unseen fingers. The villagers of Stonegrasp stood in their doorways, staring at the sky, whispering prayers that felt brittle on their tongues. The moon turned dark. And then the sky began to bleed.
At first, it looked like mist—rosy, glimmering, almost beautiful. But it thickened, pulsed, and poured down in long, trailing strands like threads of living silk. By midnight, it was a rain of red. Not water.
Blood.
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