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... to consume the very light around it.

Blood spilled from his lips, but it wasn’t red. It was black.

A thick, viscous black that dripped onto the castle stones.

Ye Zhao didn’t turn around.

He didn’t need to.

He already knew.

The deity behind him was no ordinary god.

The being holding the sword stepped forward, its form radiating an unnatural presence.

It was clad in dark blue mage robes that shimmered like the night sky. Its body was ...

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