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... th precision, his black bladed spear slicing through the air with deadly elegance. He leapt from the backs of the Crimsonscales again and again, spinning his body midair, using every gust of wind to lengthen his strike.
His movements were flawless, a blur of steel and motion, but even his perfectly timed thrusts could not pierce the dragonborn’s shimmering midnight blue scales.
He hovered in the air for a heartbeat, wings barely keeping him aloft from the gusts Draculeus’ strikes ...
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