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... termath of a disaster, the ground split and gouged out everywhere to the point that it could be called a wasteland, and water turned crimson from blood flowing seemingly endlessly as if after a flood.
The sky still bore the heaviness and traces of a storm, only light drizzle reminding of a heavy downpour that had passed here.
And then there were Demonic Beast corpses, masses and masses of corpses, enough to be called a sea, and piled up to form large hills that took place of the ...
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