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... , shattered weapons, and the cries of the wounded. Yet the fight was far from over. Towering above the chaos, Whiteclaw roared, a guttural sound that shook the sky itself. His silver-white fur glistened with blood—some his own, most belonging to the brave souls who dared stand against him.

Lucas stood at the frontlines, sword crackling with Zephyra's wind and Umbra's shadow. His body ached, his mana reserves dangerously low, but his spirit blazed with unwavering resolve. To his right, Ka ...

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