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Ethan had one goal for the night—relax.
No existential crises. No godly threats. No ancient princesses judging his "criminally futuristic" outfit.
Just a peaceful nighttime stroll.
He wandered through the village, hands tucked into his borrowed cloak, trying to enjoy the quiet.
It wasn’t too bad. The streets were calmer now, only a few merchants packing up their stalls. The scent of roasted meat still lingered in the air, making his stomach grumble.
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