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... g in the air. Mikhail sighed, throwing the last corpse on top of the pile of bones he had burned up. Turning around, he stared at Medusa. Her mane of scarlet hair danced in the wind, her hands glued to that annoying golden rod she always carried around. His eyes glued back to her face, staring into her set of noble eyes.

Mikhail wiped the sweat from his brow, a satisfied grin spreading across his face. "You know, Medusa, if they could see the look on their faces as they met their doom... ...

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