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... tip had rusted away and that it missed his vitals. The wound healed with a breath of steam, eating a portion of his body fat. He put the fire poker on the desk. Blood dripped from the tip but since it was his, his hunger wasn't stimulated by the smell of it. Drip. Drip. Drip. "It couldn't have been helped, considering the condition. Some of the blame falls on me. I am experienced in combat but you three fought in a way I've never seen before."

"I'm sorry," the girl said.. "It was all jus ...

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