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Chapter 587: Continental Festival 11.5
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... ered to life.
The scent of simmering broth drifted through the trees, faint but warm, cutting through the usual damp smell of moss and bark.
On a flat stone she had painstakingly chipped down into a makeshift cutting board, a young girl with short violet hair carefully sliced an onion.
Each cut was neat and measured, almost too precise for someone her age.
Beside her, another flat slab of stone had been hollowed out in the center, where wood burned and snapped ben ...
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