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... y desolate, with twilight enveloping all.
The middle-aged villager clutched the wooden pole tightly, his eyes simmering with murky anger, his yellowed knuckles turning white from the strain.
Qin An’s eyes slightly narrowed, his Cold Star Saber already silently drawn out three inches, the blade and sheath producing a faint metallic ringing.
"In a place supposedly guarded by a benevolent pseudo-god, such hostility toward outsiders is unexpected..."
Qin An thought to ...
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