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Chapter 332 - : 330, Lullaby
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In that wasteland.
Mercer stood where the withered banyan tree once was, watching the silhouette of the person playing the piano in the fog, slowly putting away his flute.
At that moment, the torchlight throughout the wasteland took on a bloody hue.
Yet in the glow of the fire, only the shadows of those three bishops could be seen.
Although Mercer stood right in front of them, he seemed completely nonexistent.
He suddenly placed one hand over his lef ...
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