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... s. His hands remained open for a second longer, letting the faint pulse of residual mana thrum in the chakrams before he flicked them back into their compartments. They vanished with a metallic whisper.

Enough for now.

He hadn’t neglected his chakrams—nor the rifle or the bow. Each had their moment. Each served a purpose.

But daggers were where it all began.

His feet shifted into stance. His fingers brushed the hilts with familiarity, the twin blades slipping free ...

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