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... and his faithful had also completed their reconnaissance.

"Prophet," Lecne said, kneeling. "There is someone spreading messages about a different Prophet in Arborholm. One group that was part of the Church of the Ominian attempted to force their way into the military base near the city. They failed, and provoked a mass arrest of heretics. However, three days later, artificers from the Rosen Corporation went into the secure hangers of those dreadnoughts. Based on our information provided ...

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Until he became the lowest-ranked master, his lonely and luckless life never changed.Suddenly one day, a descendant injected him with a nanomachine, and the machine started ‘speaking’ to him.[I am the seventh generation Nanomachine manufactured by Sky Cooperation, and I am operating as a central nerve connected to your brain.]“What? What are you talking about?”This was beyond the boy’s knowledge, he turned pale.The Nanomachine linked to his cerebrum realized the User was not understanding a single word it said.“Who are you, and why are you doing this to me?”[“I am the seventh generation Nanomachine.]“Nano Machine?”[Yes, Nanomachine.]The boy’s face hardened.Mashin was the deity the Mashin Religion worshipped, along with the Sacred Fire.The religions’ Master communicated with Mashin.“Um, are you really Mashin?”The boy knelt down and asked with a trembling voice. At this, the Nanomachine attached to his cerebrum realized it had been misunderstood.

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In a fantasy world where martial artists can split mountains and creeks with a wave of their hand and break rivers with a kick, there exists a little restaurant like this.

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There, you can taste egg-fried rice made from phoenix eggs and dragon blood rice.

There, you can drink strong wine brewed from vermillion fruit and water from the fountain of life.

There, you can taste the barbecued meat of a ninth grade supreme beast sprinkled with black pepper.

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