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... hrough a dimensional gate.
Shrouded in shadow, the silhouette grumbled with annoyance.
“The Sword Saint, that parasitic bastard, wants us to mass-produce cursed weapons.”
As the shadowy figure muttered,
though the forest had been silent just moments ago, ripples began to spread through the air like waves across a still lake, and two more figures—equally cloaked in shadow—materialized.
Both exuded a displeased, ominous aura.
They gestured silently, ...
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