At this time, the bandages on Limon's body had been removed, and he felt an indescribable sense of lightness, as if a heavy chain that had been binding him had been shattered. Every muscle and tendon seemed to sing with newfound freedom as he stretched, his body awakening from the confinement of the recent injury.
Diedra, with her discerning eye, had prepared a black light robe for Limon. The fabric was like a gentle caress against his skin, and though its style was unassuming, it enfolded him in a cocoon of comfort. It was the kind of garment that whispered of relaxation, allowing him to move without restraint, as if he were floating on a cloud of ease.
Outside, the rhythmic tinkling of metal on metal rang out, a familiar symphony that was the heartbeat of the blacksmith shop. The sound echoed through the air, a constant reminder of the industry and craftsmanship that thrived within these walls.