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The sword cultivator narrowed his eyes and turned to look at the kid.
The little main character let go of my robes, straightened his back, and stared up at the muscular man with clear and steady eyes. He stood tall for a child and showed no fear. But, maybe a little anger.
I resisted the urge to pat his head and tell him, ‘good job.’
The man sheathed his sword and let out a single short sigh. Then he turned and walked to an elaborate tent.
I guessed t ...
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