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... of the training sword pointed towards his opponent’s neck, and his feet moved slowly to the front, his cheeks shining because of the flickering flames.
The sturdy, bald man put his sword across his face and stayed in the ox position. The tip of the sword was locked onto Roy’s face, and his stern amber eyes flashed.
No one made a move for five seconds.
Then in the wild night came a breeze, Wilt neighing next to the bonfire.
As if it were a signal, the battle began—
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