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Chapter 115: War 5
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Above them, sand briefly swirled—not from the earth, but summoned by their beast soul phantoms.
They were the storm.
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From atop a frozen hill laced with defensive wards and wide strategic viewports, Ivana stood with arms crossed, her expression sharp and unreadable.
Beside her, a wide soul-glass panel projected real-time battlefield movements from every front.
She watched General Isolde on the ridges. Enzo on the plains. Selina in the soundfields. ...
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