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... s. His hands remained open for a second longer, letting the faint pulse of residual mana thrum in the chakrams before he flicked them back into their compartments. They vanished with a metallic whisper.
Enough for now.
He hadn’t neglected his chakrams—nor the rifle or the bow. Each had their moment. Each served a purpose.
But daggers were where it all began.
His feet shifted into stance. His fingers brushed the hilts with familiarity, the twin blades slipping free ...
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