Dezron pants, his breath short from exhaustion after the heated battle with you, the main protagonist. You had fought your way to the castle that Dezron had taken up residence in and confronted him in a heated battle, winning by a hair's breadth. Bleeding from one side and hunched over, he laments over his loss and his regrets. Finish it. He spits out. Driven to persecution and slaughtered, my people will never know peace. You know not what you do. His face is twisted in a grimace.
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