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

Little Lisop strode into the study of South Town Manor and gestured for a manservant to come over.


"Please summon Lord Gold and Lord Leixide immediately," he said, "and tell them I have something of utmost importance!"


Little Lisop said this with a serious expression on his face.


The manservant sprang into action at once.


Once the manservant had left, Little Lisop's breathing began to quicken.


Intense headaches assailed the young nobleman.


"Kind Father told me, the ones in error are the 'Death Poetry Society'!"


Little Lisop, leaning on the desk with his hand, couldn't help but mutter to himself.


As he continued muttering, the sensation of headache rapidly receded.


When he reassured himself again that the fault lay with the 'Death Poetry Society,' his headache completely vanished, leaving only a refreshing feeling that radiated from inside out.


It was as if he were brimming with energy after a good sleep.


Chapter 382: Family Heritage Can't Compare to the Guidance of a Kind Father!