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... c scent of death hangs heavy in the air. Each drop that falls from the blade splashes against cold stone like a drumbeat of finality, echoing through the chamber. Her legs tremble—muscles screaming in protest—yet in her chest, a singular rhythm takes hold: the pulse of revenge given form. Around her, the Shikibans freeze in horrified silence, their eyes wide with disbelief, unable to reconcile the crimson-smeared girl before them with the timid recruit they once knew.
Before her lies Usu ...
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