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In his Astral Vision, the massive Wheel of Fate slowly ceased its spinning, returning at last to nothingness.
The Golden Dragon’s body had long since run dry, its flame extinguished. The Fallen Sun’s corruption had already consumed both its flesh and soul completely, like a cancer—shattering all the order it once possessed.
That it could still move at all was purely due to the resilience of a pure-blooded Ancient Dragon’s body, hanging on by sheer will.
Even wit ...
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