PREVIEW
... he majestic middle-aged man seated upon the throne of bones, her cold eyes matched by her cold voice.
Yi Chen gazed at the piles of white bones, then at the many cultivators on the ground, whose breaths were weak. How could he not know that these mountain-like white bones were the ’dregs’ of this place?
His eyes scanned the ground, and soon, a woman who was as skinny as a fieldworker’s reed stick caught his sight.
The mark of a nearly collapsing illusory full moon on the ...
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