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... from its hooves like explosive diarrhea made of sunfire.
Sykarra's arms nearly dislocated.
Her bare feets dug into the rock. Her chain glowed white-hot, vibrating with sacred backlash.
She grunted, hair stuck to her face, breasts bouncing with the effort of trying to drag what was basically a flaming tantrum incarnate up a death mountain by the neck.
This was supposed to be a quick snatch-and-sacrifice. One young Qilin, blood drained, tossed into a demonic altar ...
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