Rusty Dragon

The protracted 'witch hunting' had faded into silence with the end of the Seven Years' War,  and the mysteries of the East Coast had begun to conceal themselves, yet gunpowder was on a rapid rise.
Mo Qishang, who should have been utterly confounded, stood at the crossroads of destiny in the name of Arthur. He stared in astonishment at the charging knights, the wizards atop the high towers, and the bizarre wilderness. He felt the sharpness of the longsword and the recoil of the firearm, both clear and unfamiliar. At last, he excitedly shook his robe and, with a smile on his face, said—
"Do not believe what I say, for to believe is to exist!"

They all call me Great Master

Arthur unconsciously twitched his left hand.


At that moment, he felt as if his left index finger had touched the steam rising from a boiling kettle.


Not that his fingertip was cool, but the back of his neck was.


It was as if someone were standing behind him and blowing on his neck.


His "Death Intuition" immediately began to flicker.


Arthur took a step forward, pressing his body against the back of the washroom stall door, and swiftly turned around, swinging out a punch in one fluid motion.


There was nothing behind Arthur, only the wall of the washroom.


However, the temperature of the "Ring of Equilibrium Blood" on Arthur's left index finger dropped rapidly with that punch.


Just two breaths later, it returned to normal.


The "Death Intuition" also stopped flickering simultaneously.


And all the while, there had been no change behind him.


Chapter 137: Haven't Left Yet, But Returning!