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Wu Chenghua’s brows deeply furrowed.
He snorted coldly, a staff made of peach wood appearing in his hand.
Bang!
The veins on the back of Wu Chenghua’s hand bulged.
With a heavy downward tap of the peach wood staff, the ground swelled upwards as countless black tendrils, like a tide, clawed and swept towards the blood-red demon god in front of him.
Yet, faced with the full force of an Earth Immortal’s strike, the smile on the Blood ...
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