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... nhuman wail, interspersed with the crackling sound of arcing electricity.
Valery’s body lay in the freshly frozen slush, a gleaming short sword with its ruby on the serpent-patterned hilt flickering, currents roaming along the blade, emitting a soft Holy Light.
Valery’s face, his beard dry and shedding, rapidly withered and cracked, turning to ash little by little in the Holy Light, dissipating in the cold wind.
Along with it, the unspent life force in his body also vanis ...
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