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... and met Aunt Penelope, who turned to me.
The sight of her shocked me because of the weapons in her hands.
She was supposed to be resting. She ought to be lying in bed.
But rather than that, she was sweating profoundly like someone who had run a marathon. Though I knew she had not run a marathon. She must have spent her time practicing with the swords in her hands.
"Aunt Penelope!". I panicked, before snapping my fingers and making the swords in her hands appear in ...
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