Above The Sky

It was as if a thousand thunders resounded in my ears, and a thousand lightning bolts opened the sky.

Ian raised his sword and took a step forward. He stepped into a darkness full of light in an air of ecstasy and fiery.

The fascination comes from the brain, and the heat comes from the body. In the eyes of the young man, the world at this time has completely turned into a sea of ​​mist that shines brightly.

-Is this what I've never experienced before?

At this moment, Ian feels that the shackles of his thinking are slowly shattering. Things that he has never thought about in the past and have never thought about appear in his mind. The strong stimulation and toxins brought by the fruit of the Soma wine tree are seeping into the blood along the mucous membrane. , and then transmitted to the brain, forcibly opening one after another physical restraint and the shackles of the mind.

Not being anesthetized and unable to think - being overwhelmed by too much information and therefore unable to think.

If it were an ordinary person, even an indigenous warrior who had been trained since childhood would turn into a bloodthirsty beast at this moment, and could only rely on instinct to charge the enemy line and become a berserker who would kill both the enemy and us together.

But Ian felt that everything was fine.

very good.

"It turns out that death is like this, slowly stepping into the destruction of no self..."

Just restraining his psionic backlash, Weggs, who raised his head, heard the white people's youth saying to himself: "This is really a completely unknown feeling... It is completely different from the darkness and unknown in the starry sky, but the darkness and unknown of death are not It feels good too..."

--what happened?

The knight frowned as he continued to listen to Ian, but heard nothing.

But in contrast, there was a sudden wind whistling in his ear vortex.

"what?!"

Weiggs was startled, he raised his left hand to block, and with the sound of bones and iron intersecting, something even more shocking happened - Ian's strength has doubled compared to just now, the strength is so crazy Wild, so that the bone sword he blocked was deflected a little.

Listening carefully to the voice, the knight realized that Ian was in an extremely wrong state at the moment!

His heartbeat accelerated, and the surging blood surged far better than before. If it weren't for the sublimator's blood vessels and heart, I'm afraid the blood vessels would have ruptured long ago, and the visceral muscles would be over-congested and incapacitated!

There was even a wave of heat rising from the opponent's body, rolling the surrounding rain and fog like the wind!

Clang! ! !

Just when Weggs was in shock, Ian slashed again, as if lightning was tearing through the dark night - this time he still didn't hear the slightest sound, not even a vague instinctive reaction!

Losing both his eyes and his skin's perception of the wind, even the psionic power of the sound of the wind was ineffective. The knight hurriedly blocked, but he was still split back and staggered back several steps.

The boy of Bai Zhimin had no intention of retreating. He continued to move forward in silence, chasing after Weggs. He had obviously lost most of his thinking ability and was immersed in the darkness of death, but he could still find the most tricky and critical angle and swing it at the enemy. One after another fierce swordsmanship.

"It's psychic!"

Although he couldn't see it, Weggs could sense that the 'eyes' that had been vaguely cast on him seemed to be ten times stronger.

The other party didn't use his eyes to look at his vital points at all. He just used the pure 'premonition' brought by psionic energy and the 'prophet's intuition' to attack himself!

thinking? instinct? No need... at this moment, Ian is simply swinging his sword at the specific color of his psionic omens.

He's not even attacking.

One sword beats another, and one sword beats another. At this moment, Ian is astonishingly integrating Hilliard's teachings over the past two years with his own psionic energy-his body discards all superfluous movements and turns his psychic powers. The feedback of energy can be used as the basis for their own battles.

So unpredictable.

Weggs felt as if he was fighting a smaller Hilliard, who was obviously very weak, and could lose his fighting ability at any time due to the backlash brought about by this inexplicable state, but he was able to persist until He all felt incredible moments.

The more he swings the sword and fights, the more he feels that the two figures are overlapping... Although the prophet's swordsmanship is different from the master's return to basics skills, but for him, who is now seriously injured and dying, there is no essential difference.

and……

He was indeed dying.

Click! I don't know how many steps back, and Weggs smashed a rock under his feet. This is a mistake he would never have made before-a swordsman can't even control the strength of his own steps, it can only show that his The pace has been messy to the point of collapse.

He raised his sword and slashed Ian's silent slash across with the bottom of the bone blade, the sound of steel scraping at the bone was harsh and sharp, making him feel like vomiting.

No... not because of the sound.

Rather, the guts are about to strike.

Weggs is very aware of his body.

The effect of the drug is fading.

Thunder's paralysis has not completely dissipated.

The power of forced excitation is decreasing.

Losing too much blood has rendered the internal organs on the verge of incapacitation.

The injury that was bombarded by the teacher and the thunder light has recurred, bit by bit stripping away his little lifespan.

Even the sublimator of the second energy level is almost reaching the limit at this moment.

And Ian's sword was still swinging again and again.

Like thunder.

Tenacity, genius, intelligence, agility, decisiveness and always finding the right option... All these words can be placed on the body of the white people.

Another sword was blocked, and the bone blade had been knocked out of the gap by the frontless epee, but Weggs had no spare energy to urge the source material to absorb the surrounding calcium to make up.

The knight just turned his head and 'looked' in the direction of the old man's breathing in the wind and rain.

Wiggs looked at the mentor who rescued him from the sea of ​​misery, and at the mentor who guided him to the path of ascension. He looked at the mentor who disappeared without saying a word, letting all the old friends and disciples of the patrol knights be killed. 's mentor, looking at the mentor who has aged to the point of death, but still insists on the mission of 'don't know what it is'.

In the empty eye sockets, the brilliance of psionic energy is gradually dimming.

-Is this your chosen heir? Really good and good successor...

It seems...

I really don't deserve it.

The brilliance of the sky is gathering, and the dazzling bright red is condensing on the frontless epee. Even if he is completely intoxicated by death, Ian still throws the long sword in his hand without hesitation, and goes straight towards Weggs. Stab in the chest.

The knight who reached the limit instinctively wanted to raise the bone blade in his hand to block, but the left-hand sword, which had long been on the verge of being broken, broke as soon as it touched it.

Immediately afterwards, the long sword that followed directly penetrated the enamel exoskeleton that was slowly collapsing, straight into the center of the bloody chest.

Weggs fell to the ground with his head raised, but even so he hadn't died yet. He listened with relief to the roar of the sky that was gradually coming from above his head, which was rushing towards him, gathering heat and thunder.

Psykers who long to hear the opinions of others, the opinions of others, have heard nothing.

With a huge roar that pierced the world, he fell into true, decisive and silent darkness.

never return.

The white-haired boy stared at this scene, closed his eyes slowly, and fell backwards.

He was also plunged into the quiet, familiar and warm darkness.

It's like coming back.