Holy Necromancer: Rebirth of the Strongest Mage - Chapter 1047: A shadow for the king of shadowsHoly Necromancer: Rebirth of the Strongest Mage

On the Yuan Continent, fantastic beasts and powerful cultivators exist. Their immense power is capable of shattering mountains and emptying oceans.

On this continent lives John Fenix, an unfortunate youth who is unable to cultivate and wield such immense power. He could only powerlessly look up to others and watch as they soared to heights unseen.

After a fortuitous encounter with a mysterious object, John finds himself able to cultivate. Determined to never feel powerless again, he sets out on a cultivation path filled with danger and excitement. Utilizing powerful cultivation arts found within the mysterious object, John sets out to write his own legend and ascend above all as the Immortal Asura.

The waves ripple around me,calling me in a whisper,Into the deepest part of the ocean.As I walk on the soft sand,the water sweeps over my feet,surrounding where I stand,giving me the sweetest sensation.Oh ocean,why do I feel so attracted to you?Why do I feel the tickling of your whispers?As it causes cold shivers down my spine.I could hear your gentle lullaby,It roars like a lion, yet so steady and honestJust like a refined diamond.Oh, sea, why do you call my name in a whisper?Caressing waves upon the shore,Once again you beckon me.Why do you show yourself at my doorstep?Why do I feel your presence everywhere I go?Why do you call me so desperately?I want to know, cause when the sea calls?Who will answer?

In Heaven’s Vault Continent, Colossal Dragons, Titans, Beast People, Fairies, Magical Beasts, and other races reign supreme!

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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