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... nt at Wolf Town, Colonel Moritz sat at a desk, propping up his chin and gently swirling his glass.
On the desk, there was also a small plate of almonds and green olives, all of which had been brought from afar from Revodan by someone.
The person who had bought these things was now holding a bottle of wine, carefully recounting to Moritz his experiences over the past year.
And whenever Moritz’s glass was even slightly empty, he would immediately fill it up again.
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