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Hearing this sentence, the green-robed cultivator’s face trembled, as if he were recalling some terrifying ordeal.
The two instinctively looked towards Dried Toad, waiting for him to make a decision.
With a square face, thick eyebrows, and big eyes, the old man dressed in a purple Taoist robe had an imposing dignity, but the pustules on his face, resembling those of a toad, made him particularly repulsive.
This was Dried Toad, a Late Stage Foundation Establishment ...
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