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... as silent and still, yet his mind was awash with shadows of fragmented times—initially veiled in dust, swarming with black fog, but in an instant, like thunder striking the sea of clouds, it pierced the darkness, wiped away the dust, revealing to him a series of blood-soiled images.

The night was profound, flames surged to the sky, a youth dressed in a Feather Robe floated ethereally like a celestial being, yet beneath his feet lay corpses and blood...

Qin Ming caressed his head, ...

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