MTL - Professional Accomplishment Of A White Lotus - Chapter 93

Until he became the lowest-ranked master, his lonely and luckless life never changed.Suddenly one day, a descendant injected him with a nanomachine, and the machine started ‘speaking’ to him.[I am the seventh generation Nanomachine manufactured by Sky Cooperation, and I am operating as a central nerve connected to your brain.]“What? What are you talking about?”This was beyond the boy’s knowledge, he turned pale.The Nanomachine linked to his cerebrum realized the User was not understanding a single word it said.“Who are you, and why are you doing this to me?”[“I am the seventh generation Nanomachine.]“Nano Machine?”[Yes, Nanomachine.]The boy’s face hardened.Mashin was the deity the Mashin Religion worshipped, along with the Sacred Fire.The religions’ Master communicated with Mashin.“Um, are you really Mashin?”The boy knelt down and asked with a trembling voice. At this, the Nanomachine attached to his cerebrum realized it had been misunderstood.

Feng Ming was only 19 when he lost his life saving a child from death without hesitation. The grateful father of the rescued child grants Feng Ming a second chance at life. Unknown to Feng Ming, his soul has whisked away to a far away ancient land (resembling the dynasties of China).

On this continent, all creatures had a chance of evolving into dragons.

It was said that every life had their own Dragon Gates. After crossing it, they’d become like the sun and moon in the sky, dazzling gloriously.

That also applied to humans.

Humans’ Dragon Gates were becoming Dragon Tamers.

Searching everywhere for young spirits close to dragonizing, and training them into unparalleled Dragon Kings!

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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!”