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The broken sword tip pointed diagonally, his body seemingly frozen in place, yet tensed like a spring coiled to its limit.
His eyes remained unblinking, even his trembling eyelashes appeared completely frozen, with only Yan Yu’s figure reflected in his pupils.
Yan Yu pondered briefly, then stretched out his right hand and grabbed the hilt of the sword beside him.
Draw the sword.
All these Flying Swords were defective, their spirits completely worn away, inc ...
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