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... wrist crossed over the other, the tips of his daggers meeting in a silent kiss. With fluid precision, he sank into a battle-ready stance.

In response, Spectre’s hand drifted toward the katana at his waist. With deliberate slowness, the blade slid from its scabbard, steel whispering against scabbard in quiet anticipation.

Anthony observed them with a calm, almost amused smile, his katana resting quietly at his waist.

A palpable tension thickened the air as Clement and Spe ...

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