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... filled with a flicker of life.
Weary eyes slowly lifted.
And there, they saw a young man in tattered black adventurer’s garb, his steps unsteady, his face pale, his chest heaving like a broken bellows, struggling for breath.
But his eyes alone shone bright as torches. Even with his faltering steps, he gave the impression that he would not fall, much like a weeble that wobbles but won’t fall down.
In his hand, he clutched something, blood crimson leaking through h ...
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