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When Qing Tang steadied herself, her face was deathly pallid, her long hair was disheveled, and beads of crimson blood dripped down her body.
Her injuries were far too heavy. Blood poured from the corners of her mouth in a nonstop flow.
She was such a miserable sight that the onlookers’ hearts clenched.
For the past five hundred years, she’d been the sole ruler of the Grotto of Abstruse Force, sovereign of the Wilds, respected by all.
And now, she’d displayed ...
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