Chapter 283

Wildfire Devours the Unclean Shouts of Slaughter

CHROMENETRUNNER +BLACKWALL ++

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The arrogant little dwarf was truly unbearable. Philip Foote—hardly a saint himself—barked an order in fury:

“Archers, nock arrows. Prepare to send our former Hand a congratulatory gift for his ‘promotion’!”

One wrong sentence, and he was ready to kill.

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