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... hest gently heaving, stained with the enemy’s blood.
Shi Yuan raised his hands from the ground, an earthen yellow glow slowly retracting.
The tall and slender youth flicked the dirtied blood off the blade’s edge.
And there were other young faces, some familiar, some not.
Their eyes met briefly with Fang Qingyu’s in the air.
No words.
No seeking of credit.
Not even a pause.
Deng Jia grinned, revealing a smile, and waved vigorously in ...
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