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... easts.

I stood amid the silence of aftermath, the Broken Sword of Caesar clutched in my trembling hand. Each breath was sharp, ragged. The blade still shimmered faintly, slick with remnants of black ichor. The last spirit beast had fallen with a perfect sagittal cut cleaving its head—straight through the center, from forehead to spine.

Around me, the corpses of ghost-type creatures lay in still, twisted piles. Limbs contorted. Faces frozen in screams. The entire floor of the anci ...

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