The Grand Duke's Son Is A Heretic - Chapter 228

More than ten years later, this sentence gradually spread in Elbaf Continent:

Never use magic to deal with tyrants, because you will find that he will return your spells to you thousands of times after being strengthened by countless magic specialties.

This is the story of a dragon-shaped self-propelled fort that keeps doing things in another world.

There is nothing that one magic can’t fix. If there is, then there are more. ——Izawa

- Description from novelbuddy

Li Huowang was incapable of making up his mind. Was he in a hospital or in a fantasy world, struggling to survive? Both sides claimed that they were real and that the other is nothing more than a hallucination.

Follow Li Huowang on his adventure as he tries to make sense of what is happening to him. Explore a world full of bizarre cultivators and eldritch horrors as everyone tries to survive in it.

Official blurb from the raws: The bizarre path to the heavens, the abnormal Deities and Immortals. Are they real? Or are they fake? Li Huowang is unable to differentiate between the two in his confusion. But that’s not all that is causing him to be unable to differentiate the two. There was also his own illness, a debilitating one.

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“Yuri, the Pringles! We’re out of Pringles!”“Alright! I’ll trade you 8 boxes of ramen! No, make it 10 boxes!”“Cola is definitely the devil’s creation!”Cider, cola, snacks, ramen.If they don’t have it, I’ll make it myself.

[Longevity + Discipleship + No Female Lead + Lighthearted Humor with No Tragic Moments]When his master picks food, he spins the table there;When his master chants spells, he chats without a care;When his master takes rest, he sings a lively song;When his master lies late, he bangs the pot along;His master lives on long, but his life is rather short;His master lays him down on the hillside, as a sort;His master lifts a cup, but he won’t take a drink;His master shares a tale, but he won’t stop to think;His master holds a feast, but he leaves the table wide;His master calls his soul, but he’s nowhere to abide.Spring returns to the hills, with blooms so bright and fair,Yet master and disciple are parted, one in heaven, one elsewhere.