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Chapter 595: The Fire that spoke
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Chapter 597: The weight of memory
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... nse bled from bronze censers, crawling like serpents across the floor, clinging to the stone walls until the room itself seemed to breathe. The air was oppressive, heavy with the weight of unspoken words and the iron stench of blood that seeped from the ritual bowl at the center of the altar.
Lord Aamon stood tall within the haze, his figure unyielding, his crimson eyes glinting with the sharpness of a blade hidden in velvet. He did not fidget, did not pace—patience, after all, was his w ...
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