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As he spoke, Lin Qiye sensed his surroundings.
The regular sculptures were firmly rooted in the Black Fog Swamp, unable to be moved by external forces.
But the Gold Practitioners that had just become a sculpture had yet to take root.
Hence, Lin Qiye swept out a lightning dragon and moved a new sculpture.
The sculpture’s green eyes stared at the neck-twisting demon.
The neck-twisting demon seemed to have been thrown into a swamp instantly.
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