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... ds twisted mid-air, scrambled into a mess of broken syllables and mirrored sounds.
The sigil Isabella had carved into the ceiling five hours earlier had already done its job. She didn’t wait for him to finish.
There was no need. She ended him mid-breath, smooth and unshaken, her blade sliding through air as if slicing fog.
It wasn’t about anger. It wasn’t about vengeance, or punishment, or even making them feel fear; those were side effects.
The truth was simpler ...
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