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...

The three remaining Mistfangs growled and circled him, limping slightly but still baring their fangs.

Zain’s wings flared. "Alright, your turn."

He crouched, about to charge—

Then suddenly, the mist shifted unnaturally.

A sharp breeze cut through the fog.

Zain stopped.

From the side, a strange sound echoed—like claws scraping stone, but faster.

Then a dark blur leapt overhead and landed with a deep thud between him and the Mistfangs.

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