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... billowing slightly in the faint, otherworldly wind that seemed to course through the cavern.

He regarded the towering, newly-revived soldier for a moment, his expression inscrutable.

The silence stretched on, thick and heavy, until at last, Lyerin spoke.

His voice was low but carried the weight of authority, each word carefully enunciated, as if savoring every syllable.

"It would seem," he began, a faint smirk playing at the corners of his lips, "that you've taste ...

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“Put on the holy clothes and protect the love and justice on the earth!”

The moment he touched the box, these words were imprinted into his soul.

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