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

Just before dawn, when everyone was half asleep, Left Cantor Potterman from the Death Poetry Society arrived as promised.


This man, dressed in a hooded cloak, passed through Dar Alley like a ghost and came before the gate of No. 2 Cork Street, lifting his head to gaze at the imposing Death Serpent Banyan with a look of awe in his eyes.


In the once-holy land of the Death Poetry Society at Atobur, there also had been a similar plant.


Its existence had always been a symbol of the holy land of the Death Poetry Society, and it was once one of their essential insignias.


Many old-school members of the Death Poetry Society still reverently refer to it as The Sacred Tree.


How could the holy land have been destroyed if not for those bastards?


How could the president have been gravely injured and concealed, and how could the entire Death Poetry Society have lost its foundation?


Chapter 416: The Night Death's Child Descended to the Human World!