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... be escaping. Shame.
A large distance away from Griffonpeak, a lone man was sitting in the shadow of a tree. Blood was dripping down the stump of his right arm, tainting the dirt underneath him in red. He was heaving large breaths in between taping sips of his potion, too exhausted to down it in one gulp.
It was the demonkin Prince of Pride.
Unbelievable. Why is such a large dragon flying to Griffonpeak of all places? Has that false Goddess truly ordered her lackey to send ...
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