THE FLAME OF WRATH
A veil of sparkling mist began to materialize inside the crafting cloud, gradually taking the form of a mesmerizing figure. Her appearance was a paradox of beauty and darkness, as if her allure came from an undeniable lust of the beautiful.
This was the heritage that the Anti-Saint of Lust had left for Cassandra.
Her long, flowing hair cascaded like liquid citrines and obsidian, and her eyes glowed with an otherworldly radiance that seemed to pierce the very souls of those who dared to gaze upon her.
Her attire was a magnificent ensemble of ebony and silver, adorned with intricate patterns that seemed to shift and change like living shadows.
As the summoning reached its crescendo, the anti-saint of lust extended her hands, and an aura of dark sensual energy enveloped her form. Her voice, delicate and alluring, echoed through the chamber as she acknowledged my presence with anticipation and lust.
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