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The thick, ink-like shadow in Paul’s hand became solid, turning into countless swords. Without any pause, they rushed towards Rafael.
Mellad and Situ Cangyue stood together.
The pure light of the Refuge kept shrinking under the suppression of Patriarch Husteel, and it was almost completely gone.
The domain of KingTong completely covered the battlefield in the air.
The space around Lagos was constantly twisting, as if it was gathering energy.
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