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... the splash of blood, a woman holding a sword and a face of the city looked cold and stared at her. The enemies of the cold, the cold eyes of the waters have no slight fluctuations in emotions.

The woman was in this cold winter, only a thin long skirt, the original white tunic, but now has been dyed red by the endless blood.

At her feet, nearly a hundred corpses piled up on the white snow, and the blood flowing out of the body had already dyed the white snow of her body into blood.< ...

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