When I closed my eyes, I could feel the power slipping away, being drawn away from the broken body, like dispersing mist. It kept escaping, crossing a long distance, and then being injected into another body, filling and swelling the shriveled body again.
The stagnant heart began to beat vigorously again, squeezing the blood and spreading it to every part of the flesh and blood, reviving the old body.
Will-o'-the-wisp flames lit up beneath the steel mask, the flames expanding and shining as bright as the scorching sun.
The strong light lasted for a brief moment before going out, and was replaced by a faint glow that shone in the darkness, allowing those who peeked into the darkness to barely feel the presence of gazes in the darkness.
Lawrence could feel his body slowing down; he was not as sharp as before.
This was inevitable. He had devoured the "gaps" of too many people, and those destroyed memories were scattered into countless fragments. No matter how he cleaned them up, there would always be some redundancies. They increased day by day, making Lawrence's will bloated.
Just as Lorenzo had seen in Lawrence's [Gap], countless ghosts stretched out their hands, dragged Lawrence, and tried to drag him into the endless hell, but Lawrence relied on his own willpower, carrying these ghosts on his back and moving forward with firm steps.
With the establishment of the legion, these influences have gradually begun to manifest in Lawrence. His consciousness has begun to dull, and complicated thoughts and memories have flashed before his eyes, some of which are his, some of which are others, and some seem to be pure illusions.
He felt like he was in a torrent of memories, a cold wave swept through him, washing away everything that remained of him. Even his past became extremely vague.
How much further can you go? Lawrence.
There was such a voice ringing in my heart, questioning myself.
Lawrence was silent, looking at the mirror beside him. What was reflected in the mirror was just a monster wearing an iron mask.
After going through so much and after so much time had passed, Lawrence could no longer remember what he originally looked like. But then again, this kind of thing didn't matter and he didn't care at all.
"We walked on the ice that was about to break. The ice under our feet was full of cracks. The cold sea water kept seeping out. From the dark abyss, we heard the bloodthirsty cries of monsters..."
He muttered to himself.
"Faced with biting cold winds and under the gaze of the stars, we are walking on a road destined to be broken.
Our bodies are so heavy that they almost crush the ice, so in order to go further, we need to give up more and more, making ourselves lighter and lighter, until we are weightless and reach the end of it all…”
This was a long poem like a ghost. Lawrence's soft narration stopped soon, and the surroundings fell into peace again until another person walked towards here.
Liya knocked on the door, then pushed it open and walked in.
"Your Majesty."
Looking at Lawrence's dark back, Liya asked, she didn't know whether Lawrence was here.
"What's wrong?"
Lawrence turned his head. This time, unlike what Liya had guessed, Lawrence's consciousness existed in his body instead of wandering in the world.