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... d grand tent, it seemed as if a moment had passed, yet also like a century.

Kuluka lay prostrate on the ground, like a weed swaying in the wind, trembling weakly. What could the weed on the ground say to the scorching sun above? It could only wither, losing moisture and vitality under the blazing heat.

For a moment, there was silence. Then, from the stone throne at the center of the grand tent, a soul-shattering sound rang out once more.

It was then that Kuluka struggled ...

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