PREVIEW
... mysterious day approaches, the moon no longer appears weak as usual but radiates an unsettling red glow, like the blood tears of the Goddess, dyeing the battlefield air in an eerie crimson.
Suddenly, a sharp cry pierces the night’s silence from afar. It’s the screeching of Harpies, the messengers of night, the harbingers of calamity. With the first screech, dots start to appear in the sky, initially scattered, but swiftly these dots are drawn from all directions by an invisible force. ...
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