Reincarnation of the Strongest Sword God - Side Stories
Chaotic Sword God
Apocalypse Gacha
Necromancer: I Am A Disaster
Martial Cultivator
Aspiring to the Immortal Path
Nightmare Assault
Loser System and Berserker Me
I, The Dragon Overlord
Horror Game Designer
The Hero Turned Into A Potato And The World Fell To Ruin
There's Absolutely No Problem With The Magic Cards I Made!
Chaotic Sword God
Chapter 3819: The Illusionary Ancestor’s Strength
Martial Cultivator
Chapter 600: The Son Doesn't Know the Father
Horror Game Designer
Chapter 304: Test
Nightmare Assault
Chapter 226: Deal
Apocalypse Gacha
Chapter 1137- Doesn't matter if you agree
Aspiring to the Immortal Path
Chapter 929: Hidden Estate
Apocalypse Gacha
Chapter 1136- Give them 10%
I, The Dragon Overlord
Chapter 667 - Angel Descends by Our Side
The Demon King is Too Unfathomable!
Chapter 26: The Demon King Domain’s Little Provision Store Opens!
Martial Cultivator
Chapter 599: The Sky Isn't Bright Yet, What to Do
Horror Game Designer
Chapter 303: Choice
Nightmare Assault
Chapter 225: Goodbye
Apocalypse Gacha
Chapter 1135- Ice Bug
Aspiring to the Immortal Path
Chapter 928: The Power of a True Immortal
Apocalypse Gacha
Chapter 1134- Familiar face
Martial Cultivator
Chapter 598: Since You Have to Choose Someone, Choosing Me Works Fine Too
Chaotic Sword God
Chapter 3818: Mystifying Kindness
Horror Game Designer
Chapter 302: Gaze
At the eastern city gates of Leinster, a scrawny middle-aged man, accompanied by countless white-robed disciples holding torches in their hands, tightly encircled a black-haired man.
The night gale wouldn’t stop roaring, but the air here seemed to have gone completely still.
Bradley’s voice boomed under the night sky, prompting everyone to turn their eyes toward Roel and await his response.
That question proved to be a tricky one for Roel to answer as it happened to strike at his blind spot. There was no way he could be familiar with the executives of the Saints Convocation, especially not in this current generation. He was unable to answer Bradley’s question.
He stood silently under the yellow incandescence of the torches, seemingly deep in thought.
The lack of response flared up the killing intent in Bradley’s eyes. With a cold smirk, Bradley raised his hand up, ready to issue the order to rip Roel to pieces, but the latter suddenly spoke up at this moment.
“Bradley, who in the world made a dimwit like you a bishop? Are you trying to infringe on the privacy of the executives, especially before such a crowd?”
Roel’s seething rebuke withered Bradley’s air of confidence. He had been far too anxious that he failed to consider the implications of his question. It was indeed highly inappropriate to probe into the personal information of the Convocation’s executives, especially in public, but despite knowing his mistake, he was still unwilling to back down on this matter.
The problem was that agreeing with Roel’s rebuke meant that he would have to hold a one-on-one meeting with the latter in order to ascertain his identity. This was definitely not something Bradley was comfortable with, for he was a puppetmaster.
Whenever puppetmasters project their consciousness into their puppets to control them, their main body would fall limp and become vulnerable to attacks, which was why they had to hide their main bodies in a secure location before heading into combat.
Of course, puppetmasters would have learned some def
…
We are unable to load the verification.
Please unblock any scripts or login to continue reading.