The Astarte of the B

Sarcasm turned to panic, the farmer cried out, as if he had seen some terrible contagious disease, some horrifying filth, and retreated again and again.,Lane sighed inwardly, barely perceptibly. He could only comfort himself mentally: come on, a magical medieval era is still the Middle Ages.,The puppy's body was still convulsing nervously, and the death rattle coming from its mouth was pitiful and tragic.。