Chapter 225 — Hanging the Portrait to Quell Evil
The Herdsman of the Wasteland · Page 5 of 5
No sooner had they landed than, one by one, their heads slid soundlessly from their necks. However heaven-reaching their arts, they died inexplicably. As though in this courtyard there stood an invisible god wielding an invisible sword, reaping the heads of any who dared intrude upon the courtyard!
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