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Amidst the ghost fog, a green-clothed elder with a sly expression slowly walked out, holding a flag in his hand. His gaze settled on the bodies scattered around, a mix of disbelief and a sneer spread across his face,
“Fellow Daoist He, so formidable, to have killed so many of my disciples and grand-disciples?”
Autumn leaves drifted through the woods.
“Shush…”
A figure slowly emerged—it was Ning Daoran, after having changed ...
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