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... ears with indifference. Her once auburn hair turned white, strand by strand, as the energy she had poured into her sword drained her dry.

'Now, it's do or die,' she thought, her grip tightening on the hilt. With a slow, almost gentle motion, she swung the sword, activating [Sword Intent: Time]. The movement seemed slow, almost anticlimactic.

An arc of light detached from the blade, glowing faintly, as though fragile and insignifiant. Yet, as the energy left her sword, the battlef ...

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