City of Witches - Chapter 317: More Than a Disciple, Less Than a Lover (7)

Welcome to the world that has shed its old skin.

It's an age of avant-garde technologies that break common sense. Science that transcends fantasy. And yet, it has lost its charm in the face of something even more fantastical.

The presence of mana is for those who are blessed by their origins. The Rankers are the true elites of their circles.

A long lifespan is possible. Gaining superhuman powers is feasible. But what use is personal power when the entire existence of your species is on the line?

Things on Earth are much more serious than the general populace is aware of. A threat of the unknown looms over the existence of everything living and otherwise.

Humanity may soon need to leave the only place it calls home. And seek shelter somewhere else in the infinite universe.

Who would find the Oasis for humans who have never been so powerful or as helpless as they are now? Will it be the hero they asked for? Or will it be the not-a-hero they need?

What happens when that not-a-hero gains one of the most broken powers?

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I am lost and found

In the world of dreams

My serenity awaits

Amid the banshee screams!

Within mayhem, I'll find my reason

Within sorrows, my bliss

In the darkness, I'll see my light

In the desert, my oasis!

- Grayback

The night before we obtained our marriage certificate, I asked him, “When did you start to develop feelings for me?”

He answered, “I don’t remember.”

“But, why me?”

“Why not you?”

“I’m very petty, and I get jealous very easily.”

“So am I.”

“I’m afraid I’m not worthy of you.”

“So am I.”

“I haven’t really dated, so I don’t know what love is.”

“I don’t know either.”

He held my hand gently, “But I know this. When I think about spending the rest of my life with you, I feel that my future is filled with hope.”

At 16, we used the same class desk, with less than 10cm between our arms. My peripheral vision was full of him.

At 26, I woke up in the morning, and saw the sunlight softly shining on his face. I thought, this is how I want to grow old – gradually, together, with him.

I guess this must be love.

My name is Charlemagne Theron, yes, that’s right, that’s the Theron you think of, and Ajan Lor’themar is my younger brother.

Don’t call me Daqiang, or I guarantee you will be beaten to three quarters to death. As a reliable time traveler, I will tell you responsibly, I…

“Charlemagne, what are you muttering, today is the day when my younger brother will inherit the position of Ranger General, you don’t want to be used by Cirvanas and Vereesa Hurry up when the arrow hits your nostril.”

“…Okay, my dear Alleria, here we go.”

When the two walked away holding hands, an imperceptible figure appeared on the spot.

“Brother, I wish you a happy Shura field.”

I am Charlemagne Theron, I have led the people to participate in the orc war, defeated the ancient gods and the second fool, I also fought against the Burning Legion, and I have made contributions to Azeroth , I bring salt for myself.

(PS: Don’t call me Daqiang, unless you want to grow an arrow from a certain key part behind you.)

Born with a seed of immortality, he rose from the Han tribe at the end of the century, and embarked on the road of immortality, step by step, until he reached the other side of immortality.

Efforts will pay off. For cultivators, what better golden finger is there?

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