My America - Chapter 38 - : A Chemical Powerhouse

To take a dragon's hoard is to challenge death.The greatest of the sea-drakes wakes, curled on his silver throne; but there is no silver. His hoard is stolen. He rises, screaming, and chases the thief to the ends of the world—only to be shot from the sky.But dragons do not die easy, and never one with such festering hatred. A dungeon core rises from his corpse.If he intends to survive so near the cove of pirates that slew his past self, he'll need to master his powers—and quickly. For these pirates are dragonslayers; they won't be felled by mere mushrooms or spiders.Beneath the lawless Calarata, the young dungeon core will have to fight to survive; and one day, he will return death to the man who killed him.

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!”

A streamer who died during his gaming stream gets transmigrated to a game he died on. With his second chance to live, he will survive at all cost to cherish the chance given to him. The Class he chose? The Archer.[ Hello! This is BrightestShinyStar, also known as Sirius. Welcome to my first novel posted in WebNovel! I hope you enjoy reading! ]

Emperor Gabela: Imperial legions are unstoppable on land.

Great Orc Chief: All the warriors of the tribe can count as ten.

Jade Realm Elf King: The forest ranger has never missed a shot.

Chairman of the Horn Bay Alliance: The alliance fleet is the undisputed ruler of the sea.

A mysterious organization: The prophesied era will finally come.

Paul Grayman: I am not targeting anyone. Everyone here is rubbish.

Start the journey of guns and cannons crushing the low-magic plane…

(This is an old-fashioned story about climbing a technological tree in another world to farm for hegemony. The author has limited knowledge and may make some mistakes in technical details. Criticism and corrections are welcome)

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