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... yellow sand rolled, and the sand dunes stretched endlessly, the dust connecting the sky and the earth as the breeze blew.
Watching the approaching knights, who were removing their armor, Lyra's exquisitely
beautiful face twisted in pain, showing a hint of panic.
Instinctively, she wanted to retreat, but then she thought of her unborn child.
If she didn't satisfy these men's desires, her child would undoubtedly die.
The last bloodline of the snakefolk woul ...
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