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... as looking at a couple of ants.

Arvell knew this feeling quite well…

After all, he'd seen the same expression in the eyes of those who ridiculed him.

The same look the countless nobles gave him as he left the throne room as an exiled prince.

Arvell's blood boiled.

Who was this oversized worm, and what right did it have to look at him that way?

'I'll just need to cut it into ribbons.'

He inhaled deeply in an effort to recompose himself.

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