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Charles glanced at the prompt and still felt as though the end was far away.
He couldn’t help muttering, “Why does it feel like they’ll never stop coming?”
The prolonged slaughter had begun to wear on Charles’s spirit; he’d become a bit more silent, his combat moves more succinct and decisive.
The variations he once used had given way to straightforwardness, but these were combat techniques forged in blood and fire—an embodiment of the principl ...
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