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... ting on an elegant-looking crepe for dessert which she had to desperately beg her son to be able to eat. She looked so wretched earlier that I was almost tempted to ask her if she still had some dignity as a clan leader. She placed her knife and fork to the side, dabbed the sides of her lips with a napkin, and opened her mouth to reply.
“There is a legend about the chosen warrior of the Sacred Tree occasionally manifesting tremendous magic power, you see.”
“So, in other words, yo ...
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