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

The bracelet before her was undoubtedly a prop of secret technique caliber.


For members of the Mystic Side, it was valuable enough.


But for a member of 'Pale Hand' lurking in the shadows, it was somewhat unimpressive.


'Does the name Islan hold any special meaning?


Arthur thought to himself, his gaze lingering on the nickname 'Old Lion' for a second before putting himself in the perspective of Glast.


The latter had sent out a rookie like Walsh.


Welcoming Walsh's exposure was precisely what he had wanted.


They knew that if Walsh were exposed, he and Marinda, in their quest to root out the one behind the scenes, would certainly play the long game and not move against Walsh.


And that would be walking right into Walsh's trap!


The purpose was to use Walsh to draw his and Marinda's attention to 'Bloody John', and it would be even better if they acted against 'Bloody John'.


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