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33

The flame may be different.

Yarsi stepped into the rays of the setting sun, after the semi-dark forge they seemed dazzlingly bright. He involuntarily narrowed his eyes. The surrounding reality closed with a continuous rumble of voices, the everyday noise of the village and an obsessive sense of anxiety.

Screams and swearing caught the ear on the verge of perception, yet they came from behind the tightly closed door of the trading shop located at the other end of the village. The werewolf king grimaced, one could not even guess what caused the noise. He looked at Radolyub, the sorcerer had already turned towards the guest yard where they were staying. Sometimes it is very beneficial not to hear - there are fewer problems to intervene in.

“I’ll go for a walk,” Yarsi smiled wryly.

- Is there something wrong? – his companion immediately alerted.

Our friends are never all right.

He took a step down the road and froze. Small whirlwinds shot up nearby, swirling dust in the air, enveloping in
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