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... is head having returned, the black smoke didn't dissipate. It spread from his eyes, nose, and ears, and billowed out from between his armor, enveloping his entire body like mist. The smoke even rose along his sword, making it appear as if he held a blade made of mist.
"Come." Warren raised his sword above his head as he spoke, his stance flawless. Anything that came within his striking range would likely be cut to pieces.
"No thanks." Responding, Ian threw his throwing knife.
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