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... rough their winding branches.


Sitting on Raven’s back, walking along this path, Calian wasn’t paying attention to where he was going, rather, his gaze was on the black pebble, as he turned it over in his hands. But no matter how much he looked, apart from the golden inscription, there was nothing else unique about the rock.


Seeing this, Yuran, who had been slightly ahead of Calian, slowed down his horse and came to Calian’s side, then he spoke in a cautious voice.

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