On the Mount Immortal Tao, Ding Hao held the Devil Saber and the Rusted Sword tightly in his hands. The vague image of Nalan Chu in front of him and the voice that sounded in his sea of consciousness had already made everything very clear. Ding Hao's chest was burning with unquenchable anger as if a volcano was about to erupt.
Nalan Xingde!
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