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... this tortured blood girl.

The prison door made by that Mithril was the nemesis of the blood race, and even the white satin didn't dare to move arbitrarily. But if they ca n’t open the door, they can get around—although digging the wall or something, it feels a bit low, sorry for the tall image of the blood race.

However, saving people is imminent. The white satin raised his hand and grasped the wall, and the black mist at the fingertips instantly corroded the solid stone wall, lea ...

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