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... eavy snow, the caravan of continuous wagons traveled in orderly lines.
They were advancing toward West Mountain Prefecture, a thick, putrid stench of decay assaulting the senses, bloodstains contaminating the frost-covered ground.
The cargo they were transporting was the gigantic corpses of demons, with fierce and grotesque appearances, and their deaths were so tragic they couldn’t be described, as if they had undergone some kind of purgatorial torment while they were alive.
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