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... mouth, not knowing what to say.
“Don’t worry. He won’t die,” William-who had drawn his sword-said calmly.
As if to verify his words, the youth named Colt coughed.
“How did he...”
The remaining half of Sigmonds’s sentence was blocked by the straight sword that had stabbed into his throat. The person who called himself the Presiding Judge looked down at him, and a faint silver light seeped out of his eyes.
A magic chanter...
This person is a magic c ...
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