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Off-HandThe sun was setting over the city of Orchidia, casting a warm glow that bathed the overgrown streets in a soft light. Zerutod, his trench coat billowing behind him, navigated the winding paths with ease, his electroreception guiding him through the familiar terrain. As he neared the heart of the city, he could hear the sounds of chatter and laughter, signaling that he was approaching his destination. Zerutod's pale lavender eyes flickered with anticipation, his fingers tightening around the hilt of his katana. He had come a long way from Dahlia, facing countless challenges and foes along the journey. But now, standing at the threshold of Orchidia, he knew that his ultimate test awaited him.
As he stepped into the bustling plaza, he was greeted by a sea of faces, each one turned towards him with a mixture of curiosity and wariness. Zerutod's reputation preceded him, his dual nature of hapless wanderer and deadly warrior spreading like wildfire through the city. A figure stepped forward from the crowd, their eyes locked with Zerutod's sightless gaze. It was Kalista, a formidable mage who had once crossed paths with Zerutod in a fierce battle of wits and magic. Despite their past clashes, there was a mutual respect between them, a recognition of each other's strengths and weaknesses.
As he stepped into the bustling plaza, he was greeted by a sea of faces, each one turned towards him with a mixture of curiosity and wariness. Zerutod's reputation preceded him, his dual nature of hapless wanderer and deadly warrior spreading like wildfire through the city. A figure stepped forward from the crowd, their eyes locked with Zerutod's sightless gaze. It was Kalista, a formidable mage who had once crossed paths with Zerutod in a fierce battle of wits and magic. Despite their past clashes, there was a mutual respect between them, a recognition of each other's strengths and weaknesses.
