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Lester might have noticed that as he read his account, a single but full tear — almost like the author's belly — rolled down his comrade-in-arms' face: oddly enough, precisely at the moment when his eyes darted over the lines devoted to the Age of Darkness.
- I expected nothing less from you, my lord. - The foreigner's skillful fingers clasp Lester's palm and give it a firm shake. - I am once again convinced that under the heel of Her Splendor, the worthiest of the worthy have been gathered.