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... Teacher’s movements were light.

“It’s already been two days since the match began.”

Teacher danced over the snow as if she was sliding on ice. The hem of her black robe fluttered across the endless snowfield like a brushstroke across a blank paper.

—You can’t run away forever, the Guardian rumbled.

A second brush followed the first. The more powerful, aggressive stroke painted a thick line of ink on the snowfield.

—I’m second to none when it comes to the ...

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