Just when the Sword Master's sword shines again.
In the territory of the former Ulan Empire, behind the last battlefield between the undead and the living, there was an empty and uninhabited plain.
The long wind howled through the mountain forest, and the withered yellow leaves carried gravel across the dry ground. A decayed and damaged flag was planted on the ground, rustling in the wind, while an old man rode his skinny war horse, Stand before the flag.
The old knight wore an old armor that looked like scrap metal. The leather between the armor plates seemed to have rotted away, leaving only a thin layer of tendons connecting it, as if it had just been dug out of a grave. . But even so, the old man's back was as straight as the straightest pine tree, and the old horse's standing posture was as steady as a statue. Even if the earth trembled and thundered, the sky exploded with thunder, it could not be stopped in the slightest. Shake.
At this time, in the sky, the sun went out, all the brilliance dissipated, and the deathly coldness spread across the world.
The old knight was unmoved. He just watched all this quietly, watching the wind and clouds surging, the sun and moon dimming, and his gray pupils full of memories.
The cold wind was like a line, rolling across the plain. He seemed to see that a long time ago, a warm wind blew through this land, making the lush green grass undulate like waves. When the cattle and sheep bowed their heads to eat the grass leaves, There were shepherd children following the Holy One and listening to her teachings.
But everything is over. The old knight came back to his senses, and all the past illusions disappeared. The saint was blurred, and his smiling face was broken like glass. The warmth of the past had dissipated, and now only the deathly power of the shadow of death circulates between heaven and earth. .
And he is one of them.
The old knight suddenly raised his head thoughtfully and looked towards the other side of the continent. There, there was a golden sword light across the sky, splitting the clouds and stars together, causing the mountains to topple, the earth to collapse, and countless dead shadows to appear. The sword light was destroyed and turned into non-existent nothingness, and his subordinate, the third most powerful swordsman, was also wiped out in this blow.
"Alayne Astorea."
He nodded slightly on the horse and said with some emotion: "What a dazzling sword light. He is worthy of being called the strongest sword master in the history of the world of Grandia."
It is indeed well-deserved.
But the old knight did not continue to pay attention. After he recovered, he turned his head and continued to look ahead, at the end of the plain.
There, there was a dark red light traveling across the earth. In the center of the dark red light, the man came all the way, sweeping away thousands of miles of undead. Millions of troops tried to intercept it, but all failed, and were defeated head-on by the most powerful force.
That was what he was waiting for. An existence that has been waiting for thousands of years.
The skinny war horse neighed softly, as if in anticipation. For some reason, the old knight was in a daze again.
Going back in time to a scene a thousand years ago, the sage holding a scepter stood in the center of the plain. With a somewhat unreal figure, he looked at this new and prosperous world and countless people living peacefully in it. His face was calm, but With a hint of determination that will never change your decision.
"Cynthia, giving hope first and then destroying hope will hurt people more than giving hope in the first place."
The sage spoke softly to the saint who was half-kneeling on the ground behind him. There was no emotion in his tone. It was unclear whether it was a reproach or a reminder: "Are you ready to bear everything?"
The elf named Fanxing nodded firmly and responded in a slightly hoarse voice: "Yes, teacher, I am ready for everything."
The saint slowly turned back, looked at the shepherd boy in the distance who was secretly observing him, and said with a smile: "I have already chosen my students."
"He will definitely fulfill my wish."
The long wind blows the flowing clouds.
The shrill wind echoed above the wasteland, as if the world was crying.
The old knight remained indifferent, and one scene after another flashed before his eyes - the first newborn born in this world, now a shepherd child receiving the teachings of the saint on the grassland, and he learned the most extraordinary martial arts in the world. With knowledge, and then decades later, he unified the descendants of 103,000 ancestors in the world, created the first and largest empire in the world, and established great achievements that ordinary people could not imagine.
Then the founding emperor of the Central Empire, the hero among heroes, watched his teacher die in front of his eyes.
"Akhar, don't be sad. I am just one with this world and will be with you forever."
Lying on the bed, the elf, who is still as beautiful and young as he was decades ago, reaches out and touches his student's face, and then little by little he turns into a starry sky, blending into the world, an expressionless middle-aged man. He could only grasp the empty bedding under it with all his strength, and did not let go for a moment even though his blood vessels had burst due to his own pinching.
Only the saint's last voice echoed in his ears.
"Don't forget your mission, please let everyone be saved."
"I haven't forgotten."
Thousands of years later, the founding emperor of the Central Empire, Akhar Akyev, who recovered from death, whispered to himself: "But I disappoint you, teacher. Not everyone can be saved."
Cowardly people may not always be cowardly, but brave people may not always be brave. The old knight can make his knights and troops fearless of death, but he cannot let this spirit be passed down forever. There will always be escape and betrayal in this world, even if it is a promise. The great empire, the seemingly immortal great cause, will also be overthrown by conspiracy and betrayal one after another.
The old founding emperor was not defeated by aging and time, but was killed by a glass of poisoned wine served by a maid. The old knight did not care which of his sons was eager to sit on the throne, but he was indeed disappointed. .
If you can't trust even your closest relatives, then what else in this world is worth trusting? Even the descendants will betray, so what faith in the world can be upheld
Until a thousand years later, when the old knight was awakened by the overwhelming power of the Ulan Empire, his heart was still full of disappointment, so with the preparations he had already made, he did not hesitate to start the final steps left by the sage to let this The world has fallen into doomsday.
Only now has this concept changed a little.
In the distance, in the four holy cities, the last humans, led by their leaders, fought with the endless army of undead with supreme courage and will. The old man transformed into a machine and the spell caster who controlled the crystal chased each other in mid-air. The vines wrapped around the summoned ice bone dragon. The dwarf warriors fought with the invisible fog figures in the center of the battlefield, while the giants held swords and blocked the arrows shot by the archers who already had physical bodies.
At this last moment of life and death, on the eve of the imminent destruction of the world, the stubborn human heart was finally struck by the hammer called despair, and it bloomed with a light that is enough to make people admire.
Look, teacher, this is the light you have been waiting for. Even the descendants of betrayers will one day have such courage and determination.
But all this has nothing to do with the old knight. Akhar lowered his head and looked towards the end of the plain, where a warrior was striding towards him.
This is a warrior with black hair and red eyes. He is holding a dragon-hunting spear. Rocks and dust seem to have lost gravity and surround him. The power of steel that shapes the world trembles because of the warrior's will, making a long and heroic sound. The trumpet sound.
Countless undead souls chased behind him, but they were still unable to break through an invisible barrier and get close to his body.
"I have been waiting for you, successor to the Sage."
Laughing loudly, the old knight pulled up the flag from the ground. Now it seems that it is not a flag, but a long lance. The spear blade is pulled up from the sand, and the damaged flag is rolled and wrapped. At the rear of the lance, Akhar urged the old horse under him and slowly approached the warrior.
"The short history of the Grandia world will end here. I know what you are thinking, and I also know what you want to explore."
The lance was burning—along with the old knight and the war horse, the golden-red flame lit up from the decayed flag, and then enveloped Akhar and his mount in an instant. Then, with a wanton neighing, a head of The muscles of the whole body were like a strong war horse made of steel. It walked out of the raging flames and returned to the world with its owner who had also become young.
It seemed like a whole thousand years had passed.
The damaged armor is now intact, and the armor pieces that had cracks before are now as smooth as new. The silver-gray steel is connected by dragon tendons. The no longer old knight holds a sharp Oriha steel spear in his hand, and his gray pupils are burning. With the raging fire, space and energy condensed around him, turning into an invisible barrier.
The number one commander of the undead, Akhar Aliyev, raised his lance and arced across it, causing the clouds to break. He calmly said to the warrior who was not far away: "As long as you defeat me, you will know All the truth controls the fate of this world."
And opposite him.
The warrior nodded seriously.
"That's what I meant."
———
At this time, the edge of the plain spanned almost half of the continent. Joshua, who was sweeping all the way, stared at the lonely knight in the center of the desolate plain.
The extremely strong horses and the knights in silver armor are like immortal stone statues, standing there like mountain peaks. Although they are only one person and one rider, they are more terrifying and powerful than the undead army crushing everything behind the warriors. .
The wind blew, causing the rocks surrounding the warrior to sway. Joshua narrowed his eyes slightly, his eyes a little blurry.
—In the multiverse, there are billions of worlds. Why was I chosen from the endless sea of people to come here, to the Mycrof continent, to this world
Maybe it's to get everything back on track.
Maybe it's to change the hopeless future.
Or maybe there is one, or many, things that only I can accomplish.
Changing the future, changing destiny, grabbing the throat called 'destiny', and reversing the trajectory called 'inevitability', these may be the reasons for him to stand here.
But what the heck, warriors never think deeply about this.
Qiao Jinglin of the previous world, Joshua Van Radcliffe of Mycroft Continent, would not think about this kind of thing - he only knew that in the face of chaos and despair, human beings should fight unremittingly and never retreat.
This is his truth.
But now, the warrior has just defeated the endless undead. In front of the warrior is a powerful enemy who has walked out of history. He knows all this and only knows all this.
that's enough.
"Sage."
Whispering the name of the person who caused all this, Joshua raised the sword and gun in his hand, and the spiral energy was entangled in front of him. He pointed the sword and gun at the knight who was accelerating and charging towards him, and let out a heartfelt sigh. .
"You are worth fighting for."
[Power liberation degree: 99%]
(End of chapter)