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... with a faint rustle as Jinmu landed without a sound behind the black-robed Peak Master. His mask glinted red in the moonlight, the material identical to his blade—quiet, yet unmistakable. He didn’t announce his arrival. He didn’t need to. His blade did it for him.

"...Hmph," the Peak Master muttered, his stance freezing as if something ancient had just crept onto his spine. "You’ve got no aura. But that pressure... who the hell are you?"

Jinmu didn’t answer. Not with words. Not ...

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