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

Potterman was overwhelmed by an inexplicable joy.


Indeed, just as his old friend had speculated, His Highness the Holy Son, although endowed with exceptional talent, still possessed the innocence and cheerfulness of youth.


This was the best angle to approach from!


With this thought, Potterman softly chanted—


"Death shadows one's every step, death is omnipresent.


As he said these words, Potterman once again knelt on one knee as a sign of respect.


And this time, the Left Cantor of the Death Poetry Society did not rise immediately; instead, he slightly raised his head and eagerly looked at Arthur.


The young Spirit Medium cooperated very well and sighed.


Your radiance is like death, everlasting and undying."


The words of Potterman were spoken almost instinctively.


Chapter 418: Member!