Lord Zhang Fei - Chapter 396 - 396 The Secret Of The Demon Organization [III]

I am the sword.
Killing a man amidst a thousand miles, no one dares take ten steps.
Killing a man amidst a thousand miles, no one can take ten steps.
Killing a man amidst a thousand miles, ten steps? Not possible!
I am the sword, the sword is me,
On the path towards heaven, each shall wield their own.

Jeong Yoo-shin, 23 years old, was suddenly transported to another world.In this world, not only was it impossible to return home, but even survival was uncertain.Black-haired humans were called Barbarian and treated as northern savages.There was only one place where he could gain the strength to survive and find a way to return home: the Great Labyrinth.“I must become stronger to survive. And I will definitely go back.”This is the story of a black-haired human’s fierce struggle for survival in the labyrinth.

Zeke Draker,The first failure to awaken among the direct descendants of the Dragonslayer family.Expelled from his family for possessing the talent of a Healer instead of a swordsman.Zeke struggled desperately to become stronger, only to face a miserable death.At the moment of his death, strange letters appeared before his eyes.[The soul of the Elder Dragon is engraved into the spirit of the one who possesses will.][An irrevocable and promised power is activated.]When he regained consciousness, he opened his eyes twenty years in the past, in the family that had abandoned him.“If I can become stronger, I will use anything at my disposal.”A new awakening with an immortal power.The legend of a Dragonslayer with a different class begins.

Let someone else go to war, you, lucky Austria, go get married! What the god of war can give you, the god of love can also give you.

The smoke of the Napoleonic Wars has dissipated, and the Vienna system that once brought peace to Europe is riddled with holes. Beneath the seemingly peaceful appearance, there is a vortex of the times with undercurrents, the tranquility before the storm.

The air is filled with the steaming mist of sweat, and the choking black smoke makes it hard to breathe. On the elegant dining table, a group of soldiers and fat men in suits are pushing each other, feasting on the feast called the world, hanging on the wall Van Gogh’s self-portrait with waltz in his ears.

Suddenly the music turned into a march, and the picture also turned to the battlefield. Soldiers marched in a neat line, walking towards the machine gun barbed wire.

A shell fell on the ground, and after the smoke passed, countless cavalry rushed to the artillery position.

Accompanied by a loud noise, a wooden plane flew close to the ground, then pulled up rapidly, broke through the clouds, and shone brightly.

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