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... m around the lake, creating a protective barrier that would deter other demonic beasts from approaching the pond.
Thanks to that, this place had become a perfect spot to rest.
Langtian crouched down and dipped his fingers into the pond. The water was cold, sharp against his skin, but to a cultivator, it was the perfect kind of cold: refreshing, invigorating, a subtle jolt to the senses. In fact, it reminded him of the mountaintop spring back at the sect, the one he used to bathe ...
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