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"This is Murim, you goody-two-shoes! In here, there's no such thing as surrendering or making peace—we all battle for supremacy! This is a dog-eat-dog world!"
"Ungh...!"
Jonathan coughed blood, realizing he had been poisoned. Some of his veins were turning purple.
His senses began to fail him. He felt dizzy.
"Maybe I can't use my needles on you, but my Poison Fog should be more than enough for the likes of you! You're a terrible match against me."
"Is that so?"
Jonathan closed his eyes, placed a hand over his chest, and released a blinding light.
"{Paladin's First Aid}"
FLASH!
Among the simplest spells a Paladin could learn—one Jonathan had mastered since youth, elevating it to a Level 10 Skill.
It was one of the reasons he was so durable: the power to heal himself from most status ailments.
"What?! Sorcery?!"
He didn't purge all the poison, some remained, infused with Ki.
But he had reduced its effects by over seventy percent.
