PREVIEW
... ighting up the streetlamps of black metal. The dirt path expanded even more till it was cobble. A very low stone wall flanked around a gap—the entryway for the village it seemed.
The wooden post that had grown white mushrooms hung a sign that swayed, "Wensteter Village," Hotaru read. Dusk was upon them as farmers drove small carts with a single steed.
Fields of yet to mature wheat sprouted dark greens going pale. The five walked further in where white squarish buildings with timb ...
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