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Chapter 1150: Story : Eyes from the Bark
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... rambles grew like veins and the air stank of iron and rot, there lived a witch. Not the cauldron-stirring, broom-riding kind of stories—but something older, crueler, and rooted in the bones of the land.
They called her the Thorn-Witch.
No one saw her and lived unchanged. The lucky ones returned with wild eyes and mouths stitched shut by vines. The others simply disappeared, their screams said to echo on the wind that howled through the briar thickets.
And yet, into that f ...
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