The Great Immortal of Love: All My Female Disciples Are Yandere - Chapter 11 - 10. Gentle foot massage! Don’t kill me with the small yellow knife!

Other people’s Alliance Heads are unrivaled in the lands, with an incomparable domineering air. With a shake of their arm they could cause a thousand waves to ripple throughout Jianghu.

“I believe that if you have a problem, we just need to solve it with firepower. If the problem isn't solved by then, it just means we weren't using enough firepower.”In a world of swords and magic, Lucen Thornehart, the eldest son of the Iron Duke, was considered the shame of the noble knight bloodline. No talent, weak, and worthless.Until one day, when a fever awoke his previous life's memories and the knowledge of the class from an old game he used to play, Gun Mage.More than just guns, he creates weapons that have never been created in this life and the last.A sword that heats up, turns crimson, and could melt metal.A rune-engraved gun that mages use to amplify their spells.A giant sword that you would only once see in a video game, which makes an explosion every time it hits an enemy.A gun that is powered by mana and shoots out condensed amounts of mana.Airships, steam trains, and boats.Lucen Thornehart isn’t here to play fair. He’s here to redefine warfare, with overwhelming firepower.

I'll take care of it. The uncle of her husband on their wedding night whispered viciously in her ear. In front of a frightening Steel Blooded Business Demon, he was the one who was crazy for favoring his wife.

He had begged her to pave the way for her so that she could do whatever she wanted. If not, he would pamper her to the heavens. Just because he glanced at the clothes, he directly monopolized the entire shopping mall under her name. He said, As long as you want it, I want it!

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!”