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... ss the crowd.

The mana lights lining the hall dimmed again.

Then came the voice.

Loud. Clear. Sharp enough to cut the tension.

"Attention, aspiring hunters."

Every student froze.

Footsteps echoed—measured and heavy—as Dean Garos stepped onto the platform at the front of the Central Hall.

Tall. Broad-shouldered. His uniform was different from the instructors’. Sleek black with silver seams and a chestplate made of mana-tempered leather. His ...

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