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... ded in a thin mist.
Beneath the ruins of the kilometer city gate.
Inside his silver mask, the black centipede Curse Mark on his left cheek faintly glows, just like the relentless Magic Power in his emerald eyes.
He raises his hand, a finger slowly sweeping to the right, directing the legion.
All around, silence prevails, broken only by the rustling of wind across the wild grass.
In an instant, the whole legion seems sliced open by a tempestuous wind, leavi ...
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