MTL - USSR 1941 - Chapter 846 bombing

Everyone in the City of Jing thinks that bestowment of marriage between Xian Junwang and the daughter of the Yi’an Marquis House is to insert a fresh flower into manure.

Xian Junwang was that fresh flower and the di daughter of Yi’an Marquis House was that manure that was not liked.

It is said that what is heard is false, seeing is believing. Who knows what the truth really is?

- Description from novelupdates

True Gods. Endless Divinities. Primordials. The Ancients. The Chaos. The Greater Chaos. The Infinite Realms.

Heaven. Hell. The Abyss. Purgatory. The Overvoid. The Greater Worlds. The Origin World. The Prime Verse. The Past, Present, Future.

Here. There. Everywhere. Nowhere.

“Why is it that, I cannot find any place that I truly belong? And who, or what... exactly am I, as a Mystique?”

Join our Enigma as he tries to find a place where he could belong, and fit in. While unveiling all the secrets and mysteries related to him, and his family.

It was the Great Age of Pirates, surging forward with their thousand sails unfurled.

One young man from earth ate the Goro Goro no Mi (Rumble-Rumble Fruit) and joined the Marine.

Justice vs Evil, Freedom vs Tyranny, the colliding waves between them would never cease.

But all of this…..”I couldn’t care less about!!”

At the summit of the war, surrounded by ten thousand people, Rowen held a thunder halberd in hand and walked forward with strong steps.

Rivals meet face to face, but only one could become the King.

[Longevity + Discipleship + No Female Lead + Lighthearted Humor with No Tragic Moments]When his master picks food, he spins the table there;When his master chants spells, he chats without a care;When his master takes rest, he sings a lively song;When his master lies late, he bangs the pot along;His master lives on long, but his life is rather short;His master lays him down on the hillside, as a sort;His master lifts a cup, but he won’t take a drink;His master shares a tale, but he won’t stop to think;His master holds a feast, but he leaves the table wide;His master calls his soul, but he’s nowhere to abide.Spring returns to the hills, with blooms so bright and fair,Yet master and disciple are parted, one in heaven, one elsewhere.