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The Dance decided the timing. Forty years of muscle memory threaded through her nervous system and pulled, and Mio went with it because the alternative was dying under a pile of orcs at ninety-one hit points.
The white pearl gauntlet on her left forearm hit first.
She felt the impact before she registered the motion. An orc’s chest caved under her palm, ribs folding inward, and her body was already rotating into the second strike before the first one landed.
The o ...
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