Damn it, I'm surrounded by childhood sweethearts - Chapter 702 - 483. Ruan Wen, don’t you like me?

“Next, we have the most noble recipient of the Order of the Garter, the Grand Cross of Saint Michael and Saint George, the Grand Cross of the Bath, the Victoria Cross and the lower grades of Knighthood, the leader of the anti-colonial movement, the bell-ringer of the East India Company, the hero of the Crimean War, a Fellow of the Royal Society, a lifelong dear friend of literary giants such as Dickens and Great Dumas, a steadfast supporter of scientific luminaries like Faraday and Darwin, having served as assistant under-secretary, deputy under-secretary, and permanent under-secretary in departments of the Home Office and the Navy Department of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland, the inaugural Cabinet Secretary and head of the civil service, the first graduate and most distinguished alumnus of our school. Please welcome Sir Arthur Hastings to deliver a speech on the occasion of the fiftieth anniversary of the founding of the University of London.”Arthur's gaze swept across the crowd before him, looking at the young faces and murmured, “Agares, what do you think I should say?”The Red Devil's wraith hovered behind him, saliva almost dribbling from the corner of his mouth, “Look at these ignorant souls; they still worship you as a hero. Why not say something they'd like to hear?”Arthur took a deep breath and let out a deafening roar, “Oxford is a bunch of whores' bastards!”“Oh!!!!”The audience erupted into thunderous applause.“Cambridge is the same!” he added immediately.The applause grew even more fervent...(The protagonist, possessed by a devil, travels through 19th-century Britain in a world without magic)

He was the youngest guru of martial arts as well as the perfect Mr. McDreamy of the most girls. He had mysterious absolute touch, clear-sighted observation ability and various outstanding talents.

Epic fantasy presence: Ashes Of The First Tyrant [AOTFT]Prologue – The Law of AuraThey say every soul burns.Some flare brightly and fade. Others smolder quietly for a lifetime.But a rare few, rare beyond reason ignite with such intensity that the world bends to them. These are not gods. Not yet.These are the Tyrants.And their aura is not a gift.It is a weight a burden.In this world, aura is everything.It is the breath behind a sword strike, the pressure behind a command, the silent will that can crush or inspire. Most are born with it. Few master it.But only one…only one in an ageawakens the Tyrant’s Spirit…the aura that dominates not by force, but by presence alone.

[If you enter the deep forest, you will be eaten by the shadows.

The shadows of the forest move when a person is not looking.

There is a shadow that mimics people in the deep forest.

The shadow of the forest speaks.]

Rosaline, of the Knights of the White Night, had gone missing after being attacked by enemy forces during a hunting contest.

However, she was found unconscious, badly injured, and lying beneath the cliff.

Rosaline, who woke up a few days later, seemed to have severe memory loss. It was difficult for her to speak even simple words.

She was found walking barefoot, in her pajamas, talking informally here and there. She would even pick up food off the floor!

She’s a strange girl no matter how you look at her. Is that really Rosaline?