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... Mandira’s spell. Shennong staggered back, his clothes torn, a thin line of blood trickling down his arm.

He held up his hand, palm open in a sign of surrender, his expression more pained than angry. "What the hell is the big idea attacking me like this out of nowhere?!"

From behind a line of magical spells, Archmage Mandira’s voice rang out cold and commanding. "Stay back, Shennong! You will be brought to court—alive—to answer for everything you’ve done!"

His gaze darted ...

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