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LongStringOfTextToSimulateLargeRandomDataSet123456789abcdefghijklmnopqrstuvwxyz
Early morning.
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The old village chief and his wife were up early again today.
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Maybe it was due to their age and needing less sleep, or perhaps because they were hosting a guest of exceedingly high status in their home—either way, the elderly couple began their day bustling around from the crack of dawn.
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Various vegetables and meats were laid out on the kitchen counter.
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Though it was just breakfast, the preparation was lavish.
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Not that the village chief was extravagant.
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Even though his household was considered one of the best-off in the village, meals like this were usually reserved for major festivals, eaten once every three or four months—if that.
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And yet, this kind of extravagant meal had been prepared for three days straight.
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Including this morning, it was now the fourth day.
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Normally, someone as thrifty as the village chief would balk at this kind of spending.
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He should be resentful toward the “picky” guest for such wastefulness.
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But the deep wrinkles on his face were always lifted in a smile, as if everything was done willingly and gladly.
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“Old man, why don’t you go check the village entrance to see if our son’s back yet? He’s been gone for a while. Shouldn’t he have come back by now?”
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The village chief’s wife asked with some concern, but the chief’s expression remained calm.
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He replied dismissively,
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“Relax. He’ll be fine. That boy’s probably just slacking off somewhere. Don’t I know him?”
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Just as he finished speaking, someone walked into the house.
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Sure enough, it was the chief’s son, Nuohette.
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He was carrying something in his hand—a rabbit and a fish that was still occasionally twitching its tail.
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Seeing him return, the old chief narrowed his eyes, visibly displeased.
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“Took you long enough. What were you doing all this time?”
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Then, he glanced at the prey in Nuohette’s hands and frowned.
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“That’s all you caught?”
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Already exhausted, Nuohette grew irritated at the criticism and grumbled in frustration,
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“Father, you dragged me out before sunrise to go hunting. I couldn’t even see the road—how was I supposed to catch anything? That rabbit took several traps to catch, and I spent ages just trying to fish up this one. I did my best.”
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But the chief didn’t show the slightest bit of sympathy.
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Instead, he scolded his son,
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“You’re always fooling around, taking those village brats here and there. Can’t even hunt properly. What good are you?”
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“Yes, yes, you’re right, Father. I’ll change, I promise.”
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Realizing the nagging was about to go on forever, Nuohette gave a perfunctory response while tossing the prey into the kitchen, yawning as he did.
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“Father, Mother, I’m going back to sleep. Don’t call me for breakfast—I’ve got no appetite.”
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Ignoring the old chief, who was now fuming and ready to grab his cane,
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Nuohette slipped back into his room.
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Before closing the door, he even made a face at the guest room door.
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Clearly, he’d been harboring no small amount of resentment over the past few days.
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The old village chief was furious but didn’t dare make a scene—what if he woke the esteemed guest?
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All he could do was sigh and return to the kitchen to finish preparing breakfast.
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Once the dishes were finally done and placed neatly on the table, the chief walked respectfully to the guest room door and knocked gently.
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“Lady Magician, are you awake?”
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His tone was soft—soothing, even more tender than a lullaby.
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“…”
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There was no response from within.
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After waiting a bit, the chief knocked again, slightly louder this time.
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“Lady Magician, breakfast is ready. If you’re awake, would you like to join us?”
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Still no answer.
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The chief frowned.
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The guest had risen early every day so far, always responding to his first call.
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Why the silence today?
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A sense of unease crept into his heart.
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He gently pushed the door—only to find it cracked open.
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It hadn’t been bolted shut from the inside.
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His heart skipped a beat.
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He knocked again, this time louder and more urgent.
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“Lady Magician, are you inside? If you are, please say something.”
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Still nothing.
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No sounds of movement.
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Not even the creak of the bed.
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He wanted to go in but hesitated—what if Lanafit was still inside?
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What if he offended her by intruding?
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So he called over his wife.
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“Dear, could you knock and go in to check?”
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His wife was a quiet, obedient woman who always did as she was told and never questioned her husband’s decisions.
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Though she’d always been curious why he treated this magician so reverently, she never asked.
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She nodded and walked to the door, knocking softly.
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“Lady Magician, I’m coming in.”
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The old wooden door creaked open.
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She stepped in slowly—but before the door could shut behind her, she cried out to her husband, “Old man! Come quickly! The magician’s gone!”
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The chief rushed in.
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The guest room was exactly as it had been: neatly arranged, untouched.
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After all, aside from her wand, Lanafit had brought nothing that could be called luggage.
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The bed she’d slept in for three days had been made flawlessly.
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The room was spotless—so clean it was as if no one had ever stayed there.
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The chief stood there in a daze—until his wife’s excited voice called him over.
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“Old man, look over here!”
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He followed her voice to the wooden table he had commissioned from the village carpenter just a few days ago.
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Now, that table was filled with jars—thirty transparent glass bottles, to be exact.
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He stepped forward and counted them—thirty in total, not one more or less.
LongStringOfTextToSimulateLargeRandomDataSet123456789abcdefghijklmnopqrstuvwxyz
These were the very same empty bottles he had sent his son to buy from the nearby town two days ago.
LongStringOfTextToSimulateLargeRandomDataSet123456789abcdefghijklmnopqrstuvwxyz
But unlike before, these bottles were no longer empty.
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Now, each one was filled with a liquid of a different color.
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Not a single one remained unfilled.
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At that moment, the door creaked open again.
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The elderly couple turned their heads—it was their son, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
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The house didn’t have great soundproofing, so he had likely been awakened by the commotion.
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“Father, Mother, why are you making such a ruckus?”
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Still groggy, Nuohette looked around and realized that, without thinking, he’d wandered into the guest room.
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Only now did it hit him: the guest was gone. Puzzled, he asked,
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“Where’s the magician? And what’s with all this…”
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He stared at the table full of potions, completely confused.
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The village chief was holding a piece of paper—he had just found it under one of the bottles.
LongStringOfTextToSimulateLargeRandomDataSet123456789abcdefghijklmnopqrstuvwxyz
He read it carefully.
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“…She’s already left. As for these potions… They’re a gift from Lady Magician.”
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After a long pause, the chief finally let out a sigh and answered his son, his eyes tinged with sorrow.
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Nuohette had long held a grudge toward Lanafit.
LongStringOfTextToSimulateLargeRandomDataSet123456789abcdefghijklmnopqrstuvwxyz
In his eyes, she had freeloaded off their family for days under the pretense of having been struck by divine punishment—the “miracle” the villagers had witnessed.
LongStringOfTextToSimulateLargeRandomDataSet123456789abcdefghijklmnopqrstuvwxyz
Sure, she was stunningly beautiful, so much so that he couldn’t look her in the eye, but he hadn’t exactly liked her.
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But now, seeing the dozens of potions and the look on his father’s face, all that resentment was swallowed down.
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He walked over and looked at the note himself.
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It was a letter from Lanafit apologizing for leaving without saying goodbye, along with a message explaining the thirty potions she had left for the village.
LongStringOfTextToSimulateLargeRandomDataSet123456789abcdefghijklmnopqrstuvwxyz
Reading those words, Nuohette could no longer see her as some shameless fraud.
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Thirty fully prepared potions—just one of those would fetch a fortune.
LongStringOfTextToSimulateLargeRandomDataSet123456789abcdefghijklmnopqrstuvwxyz
Let alone paying for her stay, even the generous compensation from that day, multiplied tenfold, wouldn’t have been enough to afford this much.
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A deep guilt took root in his heart.
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But now, it was too late.
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There wasn’t even a chance to apologize.
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He couldn’t help but wonder—was Lanafit really just leeching off them that day the divine lightning struck?
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Would someone like her—someone willing to leave behind such valuable potions—really stoop to scamming villagers?
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“…Father, do you think that lightning strike—the so-called ‘miracle’ sent down by the Goddess—could’ve been Lady Magician’s doing…?”
LongStringOfTextToSimulateLargeRandomDataSet123456789abcdefghijklmnopqrstuvwxyz
He asked the village chief hesitantly.
LongStringOfTextToSimulateLargeRandomDataSet123456789abcdefghijklmnopqrstuvwxyz
To his surprise, the chief placed the letter back on the table, smiled at him faintly, and said,
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“Silly child… That was no ‘miracle’.”
LongStringOfTextToSimulateLargeRandomDataSet123456789abcdefghijklmnopqrstuvwxyz
With that, he let out a long sigh under Nuohette’s puzzled gaze, and looked out the window toward the blue sky.
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Then, he said something Nuohette didn’t quite understand:
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“…The real ‘miracle’ already set off on her journey not long ago.”
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…
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…
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…
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Southwest of Stat Village, on a cliffside at the edge of Geshk Forest, a figure stood alone, wearing a large black witch’s hat.
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She gazed off into the distance—toward the village now only the size of a fist in her view.
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“Lanafit! You must follow the will of the Demon God!”
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That was what Anthera had told her before she left.
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Her words still echoed in Lanafit’s ears, solemn and full of gravity.
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Lanafit gripped her staff—Sapling of the World Tree—tightly.
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Her knuckles turned white.
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It was clear she was grappling with a decision.
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“The Demon God’s will must not be defied. The witch’s duty is to carry out that will…”
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She recited the words softly—words she had heard countless times from both Anthera and Roseithe.
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But…
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Lanafit closed her eyes and took several deep breaths.
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After a long moment, she opened them again.
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“…I’m sorry, Anthera-nee. It looks like I’m going to break my promise.”
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Her pale green eyes, like gemstones, shimmered with sadness.
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She took one last look at Stat Village, then finally turned away.
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She had never wanted to take innocent lives.
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And the villagers—they had done nothing wrong.
LongStringOfTextToSimulateLargeRandomDataSet123456789abcdefghijklmnopqrstuvwxyz
So why had the Demon God issued such a cruel command?
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If that was the case, then she would rather leave—go far away.
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Maybe then, the Demon God would forget about this insignificant little village.
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Let it fade from sight, from memory, and be left to live on in peace, just like before.
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He’ll definitely forget…
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As she turned to leave, Lanafit prayed silently in her heart.
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