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, lacking sleep, slumped into the chair with a listless air, obviously not in the mood to bother with Marinda.


Marinda wasn't in a hurry either, just puffing on her pipe, then blowing out mouthfuls of smoke, mint-flavored and mixed with a hint of medicinal scent, which Arthur didn't mind.


But that absolutely didn't mean Arthur enjoyed being shrouded in smoke.


In fact, Marinda was someone he had too much cooperation with.


Arthur would definitely make them understand what 'fate's cruel beating' meant.


Waving away the smoke with his hand, Arthur, yawning, walked towards the "Spirit Medium Parlor," and as he turned his back to Marinda, his bleary eyes began to sharpen, while his mouth muttered indistinctly—


"The ruins in the Docklands aren't known only to me."


Marinda, clenching her pipe between her teeth, pursed her lips.


Chapter 402: My Strength is All Up to Your Imagination!