A Medieval Rabbit

“A qualified Artillery Master must have enough attack range! That is why it’s reasonable for me to have a 3-kilometer-wide cannon,” Kerr Cowell said as he watched the people around him react with dumbfounded reactions after his firework display.
Tens of thousands of different races were thrown to another world and forced to wage wars against each other. That marked the start of a new world where survival was the sole focus.

My Cannon Is Three-Kilometer-Wide

Kerr Cowell rubbed his somewhat sore neck from looking up for a long time, casting a complex gaze at Scar Dog who slowly walked out from the Illusion Gate by his side.


"Should I praise you for being a genius?"


"How did you manage to play out so many variations with your mediocre talent?"


"Well..." Scar Dog, who obviously hadn't entirely returned to reality, wiped the cold sweat from his forehead, his voice slightly hoarse, "There are no trash talents, only trashy people."


Just now, in the air, he unknowingly inhaled quite a bit of cold air.


At this moment, his throat was somewhat dry and uncomfortable.


Then, he eagerly glanced at the step recorder on his wrist.


Written boldly on it was a line of small characters.


Chapter 110: "Should I praise you for being a genius?"