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... ink had been spilled all over him. His right hand was busy holding two black chains thicker than his arm, while in his left he carried a bloodied sword.

His face had no features, eyes, mouth or anything else, but was covered in a grinning gray mask that clung to his head like a second skin and seemed to move on its own. Every now and then, he would tug at the chains on his right hand, causing the souls in chains to groan in pain. Every time this happened, the gray mask laughed at their ...

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