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... d in pain and gritted his teeth.


He lowered his head and realized his current situation. He was tied to a cross, and at his feet was a pile of firewood. At the side, a believer held a torch in his hand. The tongue of flame danced strangely in the evening breeze, like a fatal flower.


The actor’s blood ran cold. Could it be that they were going to burn him alive?!


In the square, hundreds and thousands of believers knelt down piously.


“Holy Son, pleas ...

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“Haven’t I suffered enough? Can’t I just rest?” I cried out. Why would I want to stay back in such a cruel world?

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