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The Fresh Flower Vessel came to a quiet halt, and that faint singing voice finally reached Liszt’s ears once again. He couldn’t understand the language of the singing, the word pronunciation was very strange, but it sounded noble, looking down upon all living beings.
Only now, the singing voice was easily filled with sadness and pain.
“It’s a female voice, the Siren is a female, if it has a gender,” he listened silently, not rushing to search for her, fearing he might ...
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