Book Synopsis
Book Tags
Donation Rankings
Comment
0 Comments
You May Also Like
墨書 Inktalez
Edric felt his consciousness fading like a dying lamp, and the world before him grew increasingly unclear in a mist of blood. With his last strength, he trembled as he tried to brush away the drops of blood in front of his eyes, wanting to capture every detail of this life-and-death struggle clearly. Blood stained his eyes, casting a crimson hue over his vision, and every blink was a battle against pain and blurred sight.
In this state, Edric barely made out the scene inside the Control room - a massive figure of an orc pressing down on Feren, who seemed to be pinned down like a boulder, unable to escape the deadly grip no matter how hard he struggled. Feren's movements grew weaker, while the orc's restraint was like the arm of death, cold and merciless.
At this moment, Edric's heart was filled with despair and powerlessness. He knew that his body could no longer support him to take further action, but seeing the fate that Feren was about to face, a surge of unwillingness to give up and anger rose in his heart. He wanted to shout, to run towards Feren, to use the little strength he had left to protect him, but his body was as if fixed to the ground, unable to move.
On the battlefield of blood and fire, Edric felt an unprecedented sense of helplessness. He knew that this might be the final moment for their House of Heraldry, but even so, he was unwilling to silently wait for death. In this moment of life and death, Edric's heart was filled with a thirst for battle, a persistence for life, and a deep concern for Feren's safety.
Edric's heart ignited a spark of resilience, knowing that he was the starting point of this battle, the one who led Feren into this dangerous yet glorious journey. Edric felt responsible for Feren's life and safety, and he was determined not to abandon his comrade and friend at this critical moment.
At that moment, a faint glint caught Edric's blurry vision - it was the gleam of a small knife, quietly shimmering on the floor, as if it were the last thread of hope left by the god of fate. With a strong determination, Edric realized that the small knife might be the key to turning the tide.
Ignoring the intense pain in his body, ignoring the warnings of his scars and pain, Edric used an almost supernatural willpower to force his body to stand up. Every step felt like walking on a razor's edge, every breath seemed like a struggle against the encroachment of death, but his eyes were fixed only on the gleam of the small knife.
He finally reached the location of the small knife and, in an almost trance-like state, bent down to pick it up. The small knife in his hand was not just a weapon; it was an extension of Edric's will, a promise of safety to Feren, a symbol of his refusal to bow down to fate.
At that moment, Edric once again felt the glory of being a knight and the responsibility of being a comrade. He tightened his grip on the dagger and ran steadfastly in the direction of the Feren and the orcs, preparing to use his last strength to draw a conclusion to this battle that belonged to them.
In the life-and-death moment, Edric had only a clear consciousness left in his heart, that he must protect Feren and end this battle. His hand tightly held the dagger, with every ounce of strength focused on that moment of attack. As the dagger pierced through the air and deeply into the orc's neck, the scorching orc blood gushed out like a fountain, leaving a vivid green trail in Edric's vision.
The orc let out an extremely painful roar, which echoed through the control room, heavy and mournful, as if it were the final chapter of this battle. Its massive body struggled involuntarily, its hands reaching for its neck as if seeking redemption, trying to pull out the small knife that had pierced it, but all the effort seemed to be too late.
In the corner, the Feren propped himself up on the ground, staring in disbelief at Edric standing up once again. Edric's body appeared unusually weak, swaying unsteadily, but his eyes burned with an indomitable fighting spirit. The Feren felt surprised and a hint of shock - he had never imagined that in such a desperate situation, a person could still display such astonishing resilience.
When Edric plunged the small knife into the orc's neck, the orc's blood gushed out like a fountain, dyeing the entire Control room a terrifying shade of green. The orc let out a heart-wrenching roar, a sound that echoed in the confined space, filled with despair and agony. Edric's face was splattered with the orc's blood, his eyes firm and calm, as if he had already transcended life and death.
Watching this scene, Feren felt a surge of complex emotions. He saw Edric disregarding his own pain, displaying fearless bravery to protect him and fulfill the mission. Feren realized that in this battle, they had transcended mere survival and were fighting for a greater belief.
In the chaotic and fearful Control room, the anger of the beast reached its boiling point. Its huge hand suddenly grabbed Edric as if picking up a powerless doll, and casually threw him off its back. Edric's body arched through the air and landed heavily on the hard floor, emitting a dull thud. He lay motionless on the ground, only his faint breath proving that he was still alive.
Feren witnessed all of this, his heart filled with shock and fear. The small knife inserted in the beast's neck dripped blood slowly along the blade, but the beast seemed completely indifferent to the river of blood flowing like the river of life. It stood upright, emitting a roar full of anger and pain, a sound that pierced every inch of the Control room like a warrior from hell, an undying soul seeking redemption or destruction in battle.
Comment 0 Comment Count