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... d had been forgotten.
“You don’t have to be self-conscious. Cry as much as you want.”
Hexetia’s attitude when comforting the angel was very kind. As expected of the blacksmithing god, he recognized the identity of the angel instantly. The smell of cold metal...
The smell that Hexetia longed for had permeated the angel’s body.
Flinch.
The amount of flames flowing from Hexetia’s nipples naturally increased.
“Angels who regain their ...
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