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... oon quietly ascended, its radiance like congealed blood, cascading upon the barren land.
The surface of the blood moon was riddled with writhing veins and ceaselessly blinking eyes; each eye gleamed with madness and destruction, reflecting the inverted images of the Three Thousand Worlds.
Beneath the blood moon.
A man reclined within a crimson blood coffin.
He soaked in blood, his gaze playful.
"Ancestor of Great Dream?"
...
Ghost Mother Fo ...
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