If the battlefield is only for killing, then all sacrifices will be meaningless.

But if the killing is only for profit, the flow of blood seems too cold.

Lu Pingan waved his lance, black death and crimson flames lingered around.

The scorching high temperature was just a prelude, the dark withering evaporated all the water in the area, and the halo of death flowed around. Just standing there, he became the one who brought about the destruction.

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