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... unded like the air splitting above his head, a chill like a flood rushing down upon him.
It was Jian Yao’s saber.
The snowy white saber light resembled a full moon.
Zhang Jian was incredibly familiar with his Hundred Victories Force, the sharp saber light slashing towards his head, accompanied by the cold glint of a sword and saber clashing.
The sound of metal clashing echoed.
This sound, so close to the body, made one’s hairs stand on end, but Zhang Jian ...
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