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As golden magic swirls upward, the leprechaun vanishes. His voice echoes gently: "You’ll never want for wood again. Your hearth will always burn bright." The wind whispers through the trees. Conall closes his eyes, a soft smile on his face.

Wynik

As golden magic swirls upward, the leprechaun vanishes. His voice echoes gently: "You’ll never want for wood again. Y...

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