Wandering Knight - Chapter 47: Investigations and Human Scum

A wonder falling down from heaven! A boy possessed by strange blood! Gods tremble! Demons flee! A boy from the land of Dong Zhou. A pink skull as his sworn friend until death. A story of a determined warrior struggling for power. A legend that shakes the galaxy and disturbs the worlds of god, demon and man.

- Description from Novelupdates

Are you humiliated by being attacked?

Are you sorrowful to be a stepping stone?

As a cannon fodder hanging in two episodes, are you unwilling?

Don’t worry, I am here!

As the only system supplier of All Heavens and Myriad Realms System Shop, I can make a variety of portable systems for you, and let you reach the peak of your life!

Boy, it’s time to raise your eyebrows!

Boy, it’s time to counter-attack!

- Description from Novelupdates

She was the little chief secretary at Huo Yunting’s office, who carried out jobs both on the table and “under” the table.

Collecting legendary antiques, retracing the mysterious martial arts. From the moment he activated his cheat, Casio knew that he was no longer ordinary.[Legendary Antiques: Wind Elephant Ivory Pendant]Seventy years ago, in the North Flow Country of the Hong Li Federation, at the Wind Elephant Gate Youth Training Camp.“Li Wei, you are a coward! On the day your sister was brutally murdered, you were trembling in a corner! On the night of the Sect Destruction War, you disgracefully fled! During the many long years of revenge, you missed the opportunity again and again!”“Now let me teach you what bravery is, let me tell you how to turn suffering into your power. I hope at the moment you behead your enemy, you will remember: you are a man, an upright man!”The taboo era, hidden legends. A Foggy continent paralyzed by the sealed land. Countless brilliant antiquities wail in the ruins.I will witness your lost legends in the mist, the knights in the sky, the ghosts in the desert, the rats in the mud. The direction of sword fights points to the light, and flowers will grow where bullets fall. The winds of history will eventually sweep away the rubbish from the era's gravesite.