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... tiful, and deeply, profoundly inconvenient tension.

Sayama Kotetsu, the Sword King of Suzu, lay broken at my feet.

His katana was a dozen yards away, half-buried in the blood-soaked earth.

His chest was a crater of shattered ribs and righteous fury.

He was defeated.

But he was not broken.

He looked up at me, a slow, bloody smile on his lips, his eyes burning with a strange, triumphant fire.

"Is it?" he rasped, the words a dry, reedy sound t ...

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