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... across the sky under the moonlight like a night elf, stop in front of the marshland, and face off against him.
“Are you a martial arts practitioner?” Fang Qiu asked as he arched his brow.
He hadn’t expected to see a martial arts practitioner here.
However, this martial arts practitioner was dressed in the traditional outfit of the nomadic tribes and his hair was tied up in many small braids. He looked like a local Mongolian.
“Hachalamo, chalidolide…”
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