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... the dirt again. My chest burned, my lungs scraped raw, and every nerve screamed from the countless cuts and bruises Sareth had already delivered.

"Pathetic. Get up and do it again," he barked.

My hand trembled as I pushed myself up. The sword was heavy, heavier than it should be, as though gravity itself wanted me pinned. I tightened my grip anyway.

"You swing like a child," Sareth said, circling me like a wolf. His eyes gleamed in the dim light of the training hall. "You ...

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