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Dance of the Blade

Danial stood in the vast, silent expanse of the Realm of Broken Stars. The realm itself was disorienting—there was no sense of time, no wind, no sound other than the rhythmic swishing of his sword. Every swing reverberated through the arcane array, but the place was deathly silent otherwise.

Danial had long since lost track of how many swings he'd done. One billion—the target the System had set for mastering the Sword Drawing Technique, a number that felt so incomprehensibly large that it almost mocked him.

He swung the sword, the weight of each strike sending tremors through his body. At around 250 swings, his muscles gave out, and he collapsed to the ground, breathing heavily, the sword slipping from his hand. His entire body was drenched in sweat, and his arms felt like lead.

Panting, he looked up at the counter that hovered in the air, glowing with an almost mocking brightness. The numbers blinked back at him, a mere 250.

"I’ll never reach it…" Danial groaned, letting his head fal
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