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... art as he slashed out with his sword once more, causing the overwhelming world of white surrounding them to flicker and darken for a subconscious moment.
The attack moved at blinding speed, a swift arc of fire heading directly toward the spot where Iron Hand had previously collapsed.
The snow rustled slightly, as if a figure were struggling to rise, just as the sword art struck the location.
A mist of blood sprayed outward, yet Modret’s heart was far from calm.
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