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墨書 Inktalez
Ironclad stood amidst the fierce flames, the tongues of fire licking at his armor and skin like the tendrils of a living creature. Each touch of the flame brought excruciating pain, yet every pang of suffering reignited his tearing abilities. He could feel his strength growing with each moment spent in the flames' torment; every muscle and nerve in his body hardened and strengthened under the scorching heat.
He raised his blade high, the runes on its edge glowing brilliantly in the fire's light. His sword became a focal point of power, absorbing the essence of his tearing abilities as well as the madness and intensity of the flames.
At this moment, the energy of the stone was also ready, gathering within it as if preparing to unleash the most powerful attack. Every surface of the stone burned with green flames, swirling within to form a massive energy vortex.
Ironclad and the stone seemed to be engaged in a decisive battle amidst a sea of flames. The energy vortex of the stone continued to expand, as if it intended to absorb all the flames and energy before erupting once more.
In the searing flames, Ironclad's gaze was unwavering, seemingly oblivious to the surrounding inferno. His entire body was enveloped in green fire, and every burn on his muscles appeared to come alive at that moment, constantly rolling and tearing at his flesh. However, his will was as solid as a rock, calm and resolute like an iceberg. He took a deep breath, feeling the strength within him gathering bit by bit, transforming into an unstoppable tide, ready to surge forth at this moment.
The blade in his hand seemed to sense his determination; the runes on the sword glimmered in the reflection of the flames, as if they were also roaring with the power about to be unleashed. The sword trembled slightly in his grip, as if it too was anticipating the imminent explosion of energy.
His throat emitted a deafening roar: "Heavy Blade!"
With his roar, his body seemed to be tightly compressed like a giant spring, then in an instant, it exploded with immense power. His hands tightly gripped the sword hilt, and with all his strength, he fiercely chopped at the stone. With every inch of progress, the air seemed to be cut by his blade, the sword wind howled, carrying an irresistible sense of oppression as it pressed toward the stone.
At that moment, the stone was gathering energy, preparing to unleash a burst of green fire, but it had no idea that Ironclad would launch such a fierce attack at that moment. Under the violent impact of the blade, the stone's energy suddenly went out of control, completely interrupted by the force of the sword. The concentrated green energy seemed to be activated by the collision of the blade and exploded.
The green energy detonated in an instant, forming a massive energy storm. The intense shockwave blasted Ironclad away from the stone, sending his body arcing through the air before crashing heavily to the ground. The explosion's shockwave swept across the entire battlefield in an instant, dust and smoke swirling in the air as flames were blown away by the force of the blast, leaving only the remnants of the stone slowly disappearing into the flames.
As the stones were completely crushed, the entire battlefield fell into a momentary silence. The deafening sounds of explosions and the hissing of flames faded into the wind, leaving only the slow, labored breaths of Ironclad echoing across the desolate battlefield. His body was battered and burned, each breath bringing deep pain.
He lay slowly on the cold ground, feeling the slight chill emanating from the earth. His chest rose and fell, each breath reminding him of the fragility and insignificance of life. The debris of shattered stones scattered around him, with charred fragments seemingly mocking his helplessness.
He wanted to stand up with all his might, but his body wouldn't obey. Every muscle in his body was twitching, as if every cell was screaming in pain. His consciousness began to blur, and all sounds and images started to become unclear. He felt an overwhelming fatigue surging from every corner of his body.
His eyelids became unbearably heavy. He struggled to stay awake, but couldn't resist the exhaustion and pain in his body. He harbored too much regret and resentment, but also understood that he could no longer continue the fight. He didn't know what this curse would bring to him, or if he could muster the strength to face unknown challenges again.
Deep in his heart, he hoped to wake up again, to stand at the entrance of the spire once more, to challenge the unknown fear again, and to find a way to break the curse. However, the cruelty of reality forced him to accept that his strength had been exhausted, his body needed rest, and he didn't even know if he could wake up again.
His consciousness gradually blurred, and the last consciousness made him feel a sense of relief and letting go. He closed his painful eyes, and his muscles gradually relaxed, as if releasing a long-held tension. His heart was filled with endless exhaustion and hysterical peace.
The last consciousness flashed in his mind, carrying endless fatigue and a hint of anticipation. He fell into the endless darkness in a daze. In the hazy consciousness, he seemed to hear the call from the depths of the spire, the mysterious and chilling call echoing in his ears as he entered the endless dreamland.
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