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... Flying Crane’s back, the roaring wind flooding his ears until he could hear nothing else.

His Daoist Robe whipped about noisily, and the streams of air felt like knives against his face, forcing him to circulate his True Qi for protection.

Holding his breath, he mustered his courage and leaned over to look down. He saw the layered peaks and soaring ranges of the Outer Sect Four Peaks, with their orderly buildings. Faintly, he could make out Mortal Servants, scurrying like ants be ...

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