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... s for rituals, inauspicious for warfare.
The sunlight hung high in the mid-sky, tinged with a faint pallor, while the western wind blew fiercely, banners fluttering.
Zhou Ping’an sat upright atop a massive white tiger, behind him an army of fifty thousand surged with overwhelming might, their bloodshot eyes glinting with murderous intent.
Ahead, Ten li away, the Northern Garrison had already formed their massive battle array, with enormous green turtle shells visible even ...
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