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- She latched onto the mercenary’s neck like one of those sticky rubber toys or a hideously fat leech.
- No sooner had he processed the sensation of his neck being punctured by numerous needles—or was it no sooner than the vulgar noise of all his blood being drunk?—he felt, with a chill, that he, as an entity, was being rapidly sucked out of his body. It was a horrifying sensation unlike anything he’d ever experienced before.
- Even if he tried to struggle, his arms and legs felt heavy. His field of vision rapidly darkened.
- Eventually Shalltear had drank enough of him; she cast away the dried-up corpse and then licked the fresh blood from the corners of her mouth with her long, slimy tongue. Then she grinned broadly at the scrambling mercenaries.
- ***
- Volume 3, Chapter 2.3
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