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

"Could 'Theofact Psychic Cultivation Association' be fraudsters?"


Arthur stroked his chin, revealing an amused smile.


You know, there were rumors that 'Theofact Psychic Cultivation Association' was also a continuation of the 'Tower of Mist' faction, and even that it was a direct lineage of that 'White Robe'.


And as everybody knows, that 'White Robe' was a follower of 'The Light' and the kindest-hearted among the four Wizards of the 'Tower of Mist'.


Before, Arthur would just look at such rumors and move on.


After all, although rumors were a bit different from gossip, they were in some ways far more potent, particularly as time passed by. Rumors would ferment just like gossip, becoming more and more exaggerated and unreliable, until they bore no resemblance to the truth.


There once was a divine bird, wearing rainbows, able to speak human language.


After some time, another line was added: It could discern good and bad fortune.


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