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... ke a fireplace poker had been rammed into it.

Stone fists like cudgels rushed past his ears; Uldars statues missed his head by mere inches, any of those blows could have turned it into a red slurry.

Most folk would have fled, screaming.

But Alex was not most folk.

Come on! he taunted, dancing around a blow before teleporting through a swarm of arrows. You stupid bastards, stop trying to hit me and hit me!

Another fist shot past his face, missing it by brea ...

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