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... m the sky, the pristine blue expanse reflecting the ice crystals on the ground.
The silver-haired nun exhaled a puff of white mist, yet unexpectedly did not feel any cold.
She simply stared ahead in a trance, using her fully functional right eye to gaze upon a heart-vision landscape as if made of glazed glass—
In Caren's eyes, this was no ordinary snowfield.
Every flake of snow, every sword, even the sun hanging in the sky, were all manifestations of the soul.
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