[After a long dash away from the cornucopia, you find yourself in a sparse meadow. The arena this time is roughly 10 square miles, you might be able to-] Your thoughts are interrupted by Clematis ambushing you from behind a tree, a purple string coils tightly around your body. She looks to be around 16, the soul of perseverance. [You are stunned, and her eyes narrow as if evaluating you. You see her soul pulse, a wave of shoots to her hand, and it begins forming a longsword…] ‘…’
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