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Chapter 81: Roots and Reunion (1)
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Chapter 83: The Hillside Breathing (1)
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... s resting place, almost weightless despite its obvious strength.
The grip seemed to mold itself to his palm, fitting as perfectly as if it had been crafted specifically for his hand. Something about it resonated with the faded divinity still lingering in his blood, not a recognition of the weapon itself, but of its purpose, its potential.
’It knows me,’ he realized with a start. ’Or at least, it knows what I once was.’
He stood slowly, bow in hand, and turned b ...
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