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The Artist Who Paints Dungeon - Chapter 92
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‘This is it.’
Gio nodded.
Thinking about anything other than the meal at the table was an insult to the food and practically a declaration of war against pigs. Most importantly, in a situation where such an outstanding meal was being had, it was impossible to think about anything else.
‘It’s a great food when your body is cold or weak.’
Even though he was a priest of the sun, always surrounded by warmth, it didn’t mean he couldn’t catch a cold or feel unwell ...
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