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... ir stances sharp, but the silence between them carried the weight of grim realization.

Melissa’s knuckles tightened on her daggers, her gaze darting over the god-candidate’s flawless frame.

No scratch, no dent—nothing to suggest he could even be harmed. Her lips pressed into a thin line as she finally spoke, her voice low but edged with urgency.

“What do we do? My blades didn’t even leave a mark.”

Bruce kept his sword steady, though doubt gnawed at the back of his ...

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