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... uld beat a prince like me—someone who's trained with a sword since I was eight?" Johan sneered, his voice filled with pride.

"You talk too much. Now I get why those dwarves hated me." Luck lunged. His bat cut through the air with a sharp whistle.

Johan hesitated, caught off guard by the speed of the swing. He dodged and lost the chance to strike back.

Just when he thought he was safe, Luck swung again—fast and smooth—proving the metal bat was lighter than it looked.

< ...

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