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... m his wounds soaked through his clothes.

“Agh.”

Kwon Oh-Jin poured the potion supplied by the False Star Cult onto his injuries.

“Damn it! Even Madecassol[1] would be more effective than this crap.”

He hadn’t expected much from the supplies given to someone like him, a grunt with no title or rank.

Crawling across the ground, Kwon Oh-Jin rifled through the pockets of a fellow cultist whose head had been split open by a Valhalla Guild member’s hammer.

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