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... d this time, there were consequences. Namely, that Blackclaw picked me to go first to duel against his teaching assistant. Did I mention that I hate this class?

I'm here because I wasn't left with much of a choice. Considering I'm here to learn how to practice magic, I figured all of my classes would include spellcasting. Not so. So far, it's been a lot of lectures, a lot of assigned reading, and then a sliver of spellwork wedged into Blackclaw's combat lessons, and only Blackclaw's comb ...

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An Imperial Scholar by day. An assassin by night.The World of Cultivation has changed.Elemental Mancers. Flux Mancers. Spirit Mancers. Soul Mancers.Raining down fire and splitting oceans. Destroying mountains with a single stomp and calming skies with a glance. Controlling the tides of Karma, while wielding the souls of others like a puppeteer tugging on the Lines of Fate.The most mysterious of them all were Spirit Mancers, a truth that Theron was more than intimately familiar with. Due to one's Tribulation, his life was turned upside down. His family, his rage, his somber sadness becoming nothing more than Bad Karma's fuel for a madman.He was once a gentle young man, a non-combative Water Mancer who wanted nothing more than to read his novels to the sound of the rain and one day become an Imperial Scholar.But now...Everything had changed.He donned a cloak in the silent night as the clouds above gathered. Pulling its hood over his chilling blue eyes, he stalked off into the darkness.The first droplets fell.He would become the nightmare of his enemies, the blade hidden in the shadows of Heaven's tears.The River of the Night.

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“Margaret, you’re the older sister, you have to give in to the younger one.” Because she had been born a few seconds before Elizabeth, those words clung like a curse to Margaret for the first 18 years of her life. Whether it was her beloved teddy bear, pretty dresses, Halloween candies, or parental love, if Elizabeth asked, she had to unconditionally yield them all up to her. Since young, Elizabeth had weighed down on Margaret like an enormous mountain and suffocated her. Fortunately she still had a boyfriend who had loved her for six years—Amster, the pack’s alpha. “You will be my wife and the future luna of the pack,” Amster promised.

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