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Chapter 1292: Art of Time
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Chapter 1294: : Lowly
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... een going on for so long that perhaps not even Harmonious Morus Alba itself knew about it.
The repetitions of the aeons, the lives that appeared time and again before they died from disasters were like the snow falling from the sky. Perhaps each snowflake was an aeon and contained all manner of lives. When they landed on the ground, they would be buried in the land, but more would fall from the sky. As there was no end to the snow, there was also no end to all lives.
Even if a person ...
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