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... to fall to the ground.

Fang Senyan tried his best to calm down his turbulent breath. Oxygen seemed to him extremely precious, even though the flame was still burning on his body. He slowly retracted his fist. On his fist, the **** was creeping rapidly, deformed, and restored from the shape of the silver-white glove to the magic sword Apophis.

The final impact that was just hit was definitely a heavy burden even for Fang Senyan at this time, so Fang Senyan had some difficulties eve ...

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