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... he grand hall, their expressions varying under the night sky.
As always, Green Dragon was stone-cold, Vermilion Bird’s face looked grave, as though deep in thought, while White Tiger leaned casually against a pillar, looking to the sky with an air of nonchalant elegance.
Divine Art, usually inconspicuous, was now standing dutifully as guard.
“Vermilion Bird.” The Holy Master’s voice echoed from inside the hall.
Subconsciously, White Tiger glanced towards Vermilion ...
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