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... nkrid’s body moved instinctively. No calculations were necessary. He wasn’t thinking about what came after the opponent’s sword, but rather placing everything on this one strike. His accelerated thoughts stretched out the flow of time around him.
Enkrid saw the thing aimed at him. A long skewer—a thrusting sword. The stabbing technique reeked of Jaxon.
Seeing that, he pressed down with his right big toe and drew Penna, swinging it.
The transmission of force from ankle to ...
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