Scoring the Sacred Body of the Ancients from the Get-go

At the end of the battlefield, misty, windy and sandy.

And in such a chilling scene.

A figure came slowly.

White hair like frost, black clothes like ink!

Wearing a white bone mask on his face.

Dragging a pitch-black and blood-stained gun of purgatory in his hand.

The gun's edge was bloody.

It seemed that countless innocent souls were sealed, and let out a hoarse howl.

And it is true.

in recent time

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