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...

No, seriously. By this time, the training room could just as easily be my real bedroom.

The scent of sweat and steel lingered in the air, the walls scuffed and scratched from countless hours of sword drills, footwork practice, and, let's be honest, me eating dirt more often than not.

I stood in the middle of the training ground, my wooden sword in hand, practicing the forms Leon drilled into me day after day. My movements were fluid now, my strikes precise. The old me? He'd p ...

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