Death Guns In Another World - Chapter 1517 - 1357: Lars’ Spell

Weiss is an ordinary young man caught in the changing times who is studying magic from an unknown natural event. When he feels weak and helpless in facing a world that is constantly changing and filled with magic, he awakens his secret ability, the “Maid Order”. Special abilities that make him a “Master” who will be respected by the “Maids” who are loyal to him.

At the press conference, reporters bombarded Chen Xing with questions. “Can you explain how someone as young as you clinched the championship? We heard accusations from other contestants that you've been cheating? Is that true?”Chen Xing shoved the microphone that was pushed up to his nose away, his face filled with annoyance, “I want to state again very seriously that I haven't cheated!”As his words ended, Chen Xing waved his hand and summoned a behemoth that blotted out the sky, then jumped onto its back. “Damn it, I can't stand this anymore. Just because I raised them well, they say I cheated? My crocodile accidentally ate a demon, and that's cheating?”

Hadica was built around one of five Towers, an infinite structure filled with floors of monsters, magic, and treasures that the city plunders like clockwork. Most of the city, at least. Growing up in Westhill, Micah's family abstained from all of their Tower's bounties. He became an [Alchemist] at an age younger than most and just wanted to level in peace, but soon ran out of mundane ingredients to brew into potions. Ryan is a budding [Fighter] with the strange ability to mimic beasts, including monsters, but he doesn't understand it or even himself. After a Tower climb goes horribly wrong, their lives and the world around them begin to change as they try to figure out who they want to be.The Salamanders is a slow-paced story about characters growing up in and exploring a fantasy setting. It updates sporadically. Please mind the tags.

[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.