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School Transmigration: I, Chosen as the Saint by Dragons at the Start

Owen, an ordinary high school student at Saint Aya Academy, finds himself and his classmates mysteriously transported to a world filled with magic and bizarre creatures during a school event. In this world, arcanergy saturates the land, and all intelligent beings can harness it. The more adept one is at utilizing arcanergy, the more noble their race is considered. Upon arriving on this new continent, the students from Saint Aya Academy immediately attract the attention of various powers. They are referred to as Saints and are chosen by powerful races to be groomed as successors. However, Owen seems to be as inconspicuous here as he was at school, with no races showing interest in him. Even as his classmates find their places, no one extends an olive branch to Owen. Just when everyone thinks he will be left behind, a dragon's roar echoes across the sky. The ancient and mighty Dragon race, in an unprecedented gesture of high ceremony, has the twelve Great Dragon Elders personally welcome Owen, choosing him as the "Saint of the Dragons." As everyone is stunned by this dramatic turn of events, Owen hears a "ding" sound beside his ear... [Host binding, the most powerful Prophecy System is activated!]

Sesame_Cookies · Fantasy
Not enough ratings
280 Chs

Chapter190-Mutual Destruction

"Six and Seven," Blindman began, "we're currently in the middle of Natural Ravine, on Earthdragon Bridge. One of you head south to guard Woodendragon Bridge, and the other north to Firedragon Bridge. Decide amongst yourselves who will go where." 

"Understood." The Sixth Centurion replied, "However, it's a rare opportunity to serve directly under the First Centurion. Allow us brothers to first toast to you." 

The Seventh Centurion chimed in, "Yes, indeed." 

Blindman sneered internally, deeming the pair unworthy of sharing a drink with him.

He was about to refuse when the sudden aroma of wine caught his attention.

"Bring it here." Blindman found himself involuntarily licking his lips.

With utmost respect, the Sixth Centurion handed over a wine flask, seemingly without any cups prepared.

Blindman snatched the flask and took a delicate sniff.

The wine carried the essence of sunlight, reminiscent of his hometown.