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Xia Chuan, gripping the Black Blade, his already indifferent face matched with three vertical blood-red lines between his brows, appeared even more cold and ruthless.
"Lay down your weapons, surrender and live; those who resist will be slain!"
It was certainly impossible for all three hundred people to lay down their weapons and surrender, but the scene of Xia Chuan just having slain Duan Chang still intimidated most of them. No sooner had he spoken, at least thirty to forty ...
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