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Yan Lanting’s old face was ashen, devoid of any blood, with his throat swallowing frantically, yet unable to stop the crimson blood plasma oozing from the corners of his lips.
The blood quickly soaked his lapel, but the old man clutched Shen Yi’s hem tightly, the veins on the back of his hand bulging, as if using the last ounce of strength.
The three Generals of Southern Defense were severely injured.
In the vast Glazed Prefecture and the expansive ...
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