PREVIEW
... lized that the gap between itself and the Zhènhǎi Cānglóng was narrowing.
If the fight continued like this, it would die here, but there was nothing it could do!
For habits built over hundreds of years had become like an instinct to it.
It struggled to resist this instinct.
Tang Xian hadn't expected that this Taotie, which recited poetry with every kill, would also die under its own verses.
This was poetic justice.
The massive blood loss had slowed ...
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Afterword
