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... than the rusty creak was the stench—a foul mix of mold, dust, and filth invading his nostrils.
The knight, whose senses were much more sensitive than others, couldn’t help but wrinkle his nose involuntarily.
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Flinch!
But perhaps his frown had been misunderstood; the boy beside him flinched, thinking Ihan was angry.
“S-sorry.”
“Hm? Why are you apologizing out of the blue? I’m not mad.”
“It’s just... your express ...
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