Chaotic Sword God
Apocalypse Gacha
Necromancer: I Am A Disaster
Martial Cultivator
Aspiring to the Immortal Path
Reincarnation of the Strongest Sword God - Side Stories
Nightmare Assault
I, The Dragon Overlord
Loser System and Berserker Me
Horror Game Designer
There's Absolutely No Problem With The Magic Cards I Made!
Swear Fealty To Me, My Subjects!
Horror Game Designer
Chapter 323: How Many Things Live Inside His Heart?
Nightmare Assault
Chapter 245: Present
Apocalypse Gacha
Chapter 1171- Three abilties
Aspiring to the Immortal Path
Chapter 944: Resisting the Mandate of Heaven (2)
Apocalypse Gacha
Chapter 1170- King pearls
Snow-Kissed Rose (GL)
Chapter 16
The Demon King is Too Unfathomable!
Chapter 32: The First Trade
Martial Cultivator
Chapter 619: Old Monk in the Monastery
Chaotic Sword God
Chapter 3827: Discarded
Nightmare Assault
Chapter 244: Fear
Horror Game Designer
Chapter 322: Five Seconds
Apocalypse Gacha
Chapter 1169- See you downstairs
Aspiring to the Immortal Path
Chapter 942: The Fate-Burning Candle
Aspiring to the Immortal Path
Chapter 943: Resisting the Mandate of Heaven (1)
Apocalypse Gacha
Chapter 1168- Level exceeding activation
Snow-Kissed Rose (GL)
Chapter 15
Martial Cultivator
Chapter 618: Vajra's Angry Gaze
Chaotic Sword God
Chapter 3826: The Illusionary Ancestor’s Gift
A meteor shower is falling upon Leinster.
Such a thought surfaced in everyone’s head the moment the night sky was illuminated by a blinding light. It was quite a mystical sight, celestial bodies descending upon the world with a beautiful glow, but witnesses of this event felt not awe but cold despair.
“Senior!”
Everything had happened so quickly that Roel’s surroundings were already dyed in white light by the time he sensed the danger.
A long distance away, a black-robed elder watched the meteor shower with complete nonchalance on his face.
Priestley Maxwell.
This was a name that people sang praises of in this era.
The first image that came to people’s minds upon mentioning him was a wise and gentle old man. Citizens of Brolne proclaimed him a Sage. Scholars dubbed him as the wisest speaker their country ever had. Transcendents revered him as the Magician King.
Priestley had accrued far too many merits over time for anyone to fully remember, and he shouldered the weight of humankind on his shoulders. Yet, as he watched destruction fall upon the city he had once loved and protected, all that could be seen on his face was cold solemnity.
It had been a hundred years since he had defected to the Savior after his physical functions started to fail. He weaved an elaborate scheme within these hundred years, and victory seemed to be just within reach when an unexpected figure suddenly arrived in Leinster.
The Ascarts.
This was an ancient family with a long lineage that one must never lower one’s guard before, especially when dealing with those who had awakened to their bloodline. Despite the heavy responsibilities they bore, they were also blessed with miraculous powers. Anything was possible once they got involved.
This was Priestley’s evaluation of them over the long years.
It was like nothing was absolute before the Ascarts, be it seemingly unbreachable level difference or established laws of the world. They were a trove of possibilities, often accomplishing things that no one thought to be possible. It had been li
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