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... ity that had long confined itself in destruction and emptiness now falls silent, not out of fear, but out of exhaustion. Like a giant body that has just cried out loudly, then falls asleep in the embrace of the gray sky.
Fitran sits leaning against the ruins of the main temple. His Voidlight sword is planted beside him, glowing softly. Beelzebub sits next to him, examining the minor wounds adorning her lover's body—especially the wound on his shoulder, a result of a direct impact from th ...
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