MTL - Immortal Martial Venerable - Chapter 39 Infighting

Ghost stories descend, binding national fate.People enhance themselves and their nation's luck by constantly participating in Analog Horror.Mental patient Jiang Xiao is initially selected to enter a nine-star level mental hospital Analog Horror!However, he bizarrely finds out that he seems to be the most seriously ill one...Jiang Xiao: “I sign a pact with the ghost stories, the weirdness is my grandson!”Participating in the seven-star level Analog Horror “Where Did Daddy Die”.A peachy-cheeked son with big eyes blinking asks: “Do you want to be my daddy?”The chosen one: “Yes!”Son: “Then I have a tiny request, which is to beat you to death!”One chosen daddy after another is smashed into pulp by the son right from the start.Facing the rebellious son charging forward, Jiang Xiao smiles coldly: “Dad, I'm actually your son!”

Might is truth!

Iron-blooded Prime Minister Bismarck once said: “To solve major contemporary problems, we cannot rely on speeches and parliamentary resolutions… we must rely on iron and blood.”

Qin Tian, ​​a military enthusiast, was reborn as the fifth son of William II, Prince Oscar . Originally, he just wanted to eat and wait to die, but by accident, he became the heir to the empire.

For his own life, Qin Tian had to do everything possible to let Germany win the war!

Qin Tian’s goal: “Use the German sword to obtain land for the German plow, obtain daily bread for the German people, and fight for the land under the sun for the German nation!”

- Description from novelbuddy

The world is made up of the five elements, and it could be divided into Yin and Yang.Beneath the heavens, on the ancient divine center continent, billions of lives thrive in the prosperous era of the cultivation.Across its vast lands, happiness, sadness, reunion, and separation played out in the long lives of those seeking immortalhood.Light is always accompanied by darkness, and under the radiance of the heavens, there are silent shadows moving about…

The protracted ’witch hunting’ had faded into silence with the end of the Seven Years’ War, and the mysteries of the East Coast had begun to conceal themselves, yet gunpowder was on a rapid rise. Mo Qishang, who should have been utterly confounded, stood at the crossroads of destiny in the name of Arthur. He stared in astonishment at the charging knights, the wizards atop the high towers, and the bizarre wilderness. He felt the sharpness of the longsword and the recoil of the firearm, both clear and unfamiliar. At last, he excitedly shook his robe and, with a smile on his face, said— “Do not believe what I say, for to believe is to exist!”