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... with each other, soft sunlight shines on the ground through the glass, and every few meters, a bright stamp is sprinkled. Through the rays of light, the dust is flying, and the light and shadow alternately form a deep space. The end of the promenade seems to lead to an unknown world.

And Isdorville looked at him calmly, his face thinner than ever before.

"Go, Your Highness," he said.

"But I ... I don't know if I can do it ..." Yalta was a little scared, and she flinched.

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