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Book 13: Chapter 97
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... constantly, he showed no signs of struggling to traverse the trail. His relaxed pace made it appear as though he was riding the warm winds that moved the white puffs high above the flowing water. Despite the muddy path forcing him to set his foot firmly each step, he barely left any visible footprints.
Although most people would struggle to put a name to his face, he was far from being a nobody. Descendants of prestigious martial arts clans would address him as “Master” or “The Mast ...
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