With the line of soldiers marching on in steady pace, a man in his thirties stared carefully at the silent, empty street before him. His hair is nonexistent, just like a monk from a secluded monastery. His eyes were sharp, giving an impression of a beast to whoever saw him. However, these eyes of him weren't just because of his hellish experience in the battlefield. He had eyes that were always glaring at others. No matter if he was sad, happy, joyful, or mad, his eyes would always glare no matter what kind of expression he made.
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