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... the black door. A group of furious witchers surrounded a treant before it. The treant was tied up in circles of dimeritium chains, and its leaves, mushrooms, fruits, and garlands had lost their vitality, hanging low.

There was a sneer on the face of the treant. Idarran ignored Roy's question. It was as if it were the victor here, despite being tied up.

"Why aren't you running anymore, you piece of rotten wood?" Lambert rubbed his bald forehead and swung his blade around, then he ...

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