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... asn’t really a surprise—he was over one hundred years old and the constant battle meant that he hadn’t slept in days.
Bel heard a faint sound that prompted him to immediately throw a kick upward. It slammed into a red spear, leaving his leg trembling.
“You’re Selim Sanders.”
Not many of Bel's opponents had left a lasting impression on him. That made the twenty-year-old boy in front of him very special. Even if Selim was the Martial God’s son, Bel would have forgotten abou ...
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