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... g his threat level with the stick. He was wobbling, finally showing signs of being tired but somehow, the air around him was different that even the snake slithered backwards.

He swung the short in short intervals with his right hand, his veins flickering with each swing. His looked like they were staring off somewhere else, as if not acknowledge the snake anymore.

’hahh, how long has it been since i swung a sword? I wonder if those brats are doing ok.’ His swing stopped mid way ...

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