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Someone lit a Black Stone.
On the stage of the Three Gates, some managed to hold on for more than three rounds, but in the end, they were all sent flying down.
Some passed the assessment, some failed, and then, continuously, more came forward; the scene was exceptionally lively, with the crowd’s noise rising and falling in waves.
At this moment, hundreds of meters away from the Southern Market Entrance, in a room at a tavern, a handsome youth d ...
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