Every Wednesday, Friday, and Saturday, Abbé Faria celebrates—not for prayer, but for fish. In this passage, he reveals the astonishing creativity behind his writing tools: pens made from cartilage, ink from fireplace soot and wine, and—when the moment truly mattered—his own blood.

For Dantès, wonder turns to reverence. What seemed supernatural is now something even more profound: human will refined into genius.

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