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Chapter 688: The Elven Demon (2)
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... alike. The thing that once called itself Vaerentis loomed at the far end, tall and fundamentally wrong. Flesh had abandoned him; in its place, a lattice of twisted bark and fused memory-skin shifted with every breath, dragging half-formed faces through the open air. Some flickered between expressions like broken marionettes—Clara's shy smile melting into Roth's crooked grin, then snapping into Vaelarien's sharp-eyed scowl. Each mask stayed for only a heartbeat before sliding away as though exhau ...
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