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... was stiff as if it had rusted.
If it were a hinge, I’d pray for the blessing of WD-40, but nothing like a lubricant for magic exists in this world... no, actually there’s one next to me.
“Sir togician, please help me. This magic isn’t working well.”
“Eh? Where?”
The violet togician, who had been watching the adventure of Illain and Pero, came trotting over. I explained as I ran my hand over the core magic circle driving the narration, which among the many emerged ...
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