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Chapter 312: Training and Threads of Fate
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... alone felt unnatural.
The ship cut through Morgain territory beneath a sky choked with cloud and snow, the altitude high enough that the world below vanished entirely. Endless white peaks drifted past like half-remembered shapes, their tops swallowed by mist. For long stretches, there was nothing to see at all—just grey, cold, and the steady groan of the hull pushing forward.
Trafalgar stood inside the command cabin beside Alfred, one hand resting loosely against a support beam ...
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