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... eyes watching the billowing plumes of smoke rise from the ruinous remains of the Cult of the Living Husk. The wind whispered through the charred air, carrying with it the faint scent of death and burnt flesh. The remnants of the temple cracked and crumbled behind him, the flames of destruction slowly licking the sky, their orange glow stark against the deepening twilight. But Rin felt nothing—nothing but the cold, indifferent chill that had long since settled deep within him.

His hand c ...

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