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It had been over a week since Renji collapsed, and the world outside seemed to move on without him.

Inside the dimly lit room above the inn, time stood still.

Elara sat at his bedside, gently pressing a cool cloth to his forehead. The fever that once raged had finally broken, leaving behind a subtle heat that no longer threatened his life—but his eyes remained closed, and his body weak.

His breathing, while steadier, was still shallow, and the strange si ...

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Wait… This patriach, you’re clearly not part of the plot?

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