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... en's presence. The sight of the King's empty gaze was too much for the witch to bear.

Draven remained at the outskirts of Redcrest for a long time.

The passing breeze tousled his black hair, yet he stood like a stone statue forsaken by time. The random bouts of wind and the swaying grass were the only movements within that ridge.

As the clouds soon partially covered the sun, another strong gust of wind blew over, and only then did the sorrowful figure of the King of Agart ...

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