Infinite Competitive Dungeon Society - Chapter 138: The Third Explorer (2)

The Pseudo-Holy Grail War of Snowfield is About to Begin!Moran, who has transmigrated into the Type-Moon universe, is determined to clear the game in one life!Waiting online, urgent!Ding! You have successfully activated the Life Simulator!• 【You drove out the foreign Olympian Machine Gods, took the hand of the Earth Mother Goddess, and founded a new nation and mythology.】• 【You are the Lord of the Millennium Castle, bestowed with the name Brunestud, and the beloved ruler of the land in the eyes of the Crimson Moon.】• 【You are the Final King of the Age of Gods, single-handedly preventing its decline and ensuring that Divine Age Britain endures to this day.】Behind this dazzling simulated life, Moran now faces—Arcueid: “Weren’t you supposed to pick me up at the Millennium Castle? Why are you here in the Holy Grail War?!”Artoria: “Enough! Come back to Britain with me!”Ereshkigal: “Moran! Who are all these women?!”As his ever-growing circle of admirers closes in, Moran realizes—This might just be the hardest “Kidney Grail War” in history.

This is an era of national miracles and national adventures.

A gray fog swept the world.

Ghosts, ghosts, ancient gods, extraordinary races, etc., are all over the gray fog.

There are dangers and miracles.

Some items and even creatures invaded by the power of gray fog are called miracles.

Some miracle items can generate ore every day, which is inexhaustible.

Some miracle items can make people stronger even if they lie still every day.

And some, it is possible to create extraordinary warriors in batches.

Bai Ye came through, with a golden finger that could see all the prompts, and got a fire source at the beginning…

- Description from novelbuddy

Chi Xiaoman and Qiao Ning have been childhood friends for over ten years. Then, under the influence of alcohol, they end...

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.

—— Dickens《A Tale of Two Cities》

I made myself a ghost back to life from death, with hatred in my bones and conspiracy brewed for years, sinking into the marsh, into the abyss. All I want is to bury the rotten roots, growing thistles and thorns which can kill like upas, to stab into the hypocritical civilization.

In the bottom of the muck……I found my lucida.

- Description from Novelupdates