When Soshiyan opened her eyes again, the first thing that caught her eye was Talos and Thor's two worried faces.
The first thing he said when he sat up from the bed was—
"Sorry, I was careless."
Thor asked first:
"what happened?"
"The space necromancer deployed a trap, and if you accidentally... the boat capsized in the small ditch."
After gently revealing this topic, Soshiyang turned to ask:
"How about Armnark?"
Talos answered him.
"Nothing is wrong."
"It's thanks to him this time."
But Thor still seemed to want to know what happened to Soshyan.
"Does the space undead have weapons to deal with you?"
"Of course, but I don't know what it is, it seems to be coming out of the track."
Thor looked at him and stopped asking questions, just nodded.
"It's fine."
Soshiyan looked at Talos.
“How long has it been?”
"Nine Days."
"That's fine, is there anything big happening recently?"
"There is no big deal, but some reinforcements have come one after another. Now the number of starry armies has reached 10 million, and the number of Orps militias is still increasing. It is currently more than 120 million. Oh, and there are also scattered naval forces drawn from the surrounding star areas, but they are all old ships, the largest of which is cruiser."
"Thank you for your hard work, I will deal with these things as soon as possible."
As he said that, Soshiyang got off the bed, stepped on the cold floor barefoot, then walked to the clothes hanger beside him and picked up his robe and put it on, and then left the medical cabin.
Thor looked at his back and then turned to Talos.
"The first time I saw him so... panic. He had always had a high degree of confidence and even a little arrogant before, but now he suddenly seems to have become a different person."
"Let him handle it myself."
Talos did not respond directly, and turned around and walked out of the medical cabin. Thor stood there thinking for a moment and sighed.
After briefly dealing with military affairs and proving to everyone that he had "out of seclusion", Soshiyang went to another place, a place he had not been to for a long time.
"call--"
In the deep breathing, the simple-handed sword shone in the soft glow, and wherever the blade passed, the light seemed to be briefly divided.
Soshiyang was just wearing a simple blue waist-length training suit, sweating in the training room, as if only the weight of the long sword in his hand comforted him, making him feel down to earth, and making him feel that he was really here at this moment.
This is a peaceful and peaceful place with only pure goals, simple but not complicated.
He turned around and let the hilt slide across his palm, making it an extension of his arm and an extension of his soul.
As he moved, strange halos began to flash around him, and then the light surged up and turned into images of space undead.
Soshiyan's breathing became heavy, and he concentrated his will and moved forward, and despite his strong figure, he had elegant movements.
One thorn, one tick, one waving...
The real hostile phantom turns into nothingness, but there is more.
Surrounded by countless cold metal souls, Soshiyang's attention began to dissipate again without realizing it. He tried hard to force himself not to think about those things, but he couldn't control it...
His past worries were confirmed, and the power obtained easily always comes at a price, both in the body and in other aspects.
Now Soshyan feels like a badly repaired damaged container, and everything he is proud of is losing, although this idea makes him feel uneasy.
Sometimes, his mind was filled with fragments—snippets of conversations that he couldn’t remember if they had actually existed, faces without names, names without faces.
The embers of old emotions burn to new life and then disappear again.
Those dead souls he knew or forgot, those dead souls he killed.
In a trance, he felt a ghostly cold air coming to his face, and clearly heard the footsteps on the marble floor and the howl from the skinned person's throat. All of this sounds became louder and louder...
His skin tingled, the book in his hand was heavy, the Phoenix Gate of Supreme Heaven suddenly opened, and then...
Soshiyan shook his head vigorously, exhaled, grabbed the sword tightly, trying to draw strength from the mechanical training that he had been familiar with countless times and gain confidence from its use.
This is not a strange book!
He turned around, pierced the air, and let the weight of the blade complete his mind, just as he had been taught by Thor.
But those memory fragments did not come alone.
A cold silver hand reached towards him, and Soshiyang retreated suddenly, and the sword in his hand cut open the air in a panic.
He heard the crazy laughter, the image in front of him swayed and dissipated, and another broken memory emerged. The crazy god was raging among the stars. It had arrogant desires and ambitions, trying to run to the ultimate origin that transcends material and spirit...
"Keep your mind calm and still not free from illness, and forget about life and death, which is the nature..."
Soshiyang repeated the whisper. This was the heart technique given to him by Master Ananda, which could calm his bored mind.
Gradually, his voice echoed in the training ground, integrating with the empty roar of the space undead.
The reflection of the sword melted into the stars, his movements slowed down and became more determined, and he began to relax his muscles and let his attention go out of his shattered vision.
In any case, he does not need others to remind him of what he is: he will keep everything he cherishes, no matter what the price he pays.
One of them is particularly important - he is Astart, the incarnation of death, launching wars, fighting, death, and fighting again in the name of the Lord of mankind until the final victory, or ultimately everything collapses.
Although this idea did not bring him much comfort, victory could not be determined, and the price of times seemed to be beyond his ability to bear, it was this thought and experience that shape him as a person. If he gave up this, it was to give up himself, and what he insisted on would be swallowed up. There was no doubt that his love for his wife could not replace this anchor.
His spirit was soothed, and he could focus more on the sword in his hand and the light shining of the stars on the blades - the crazy god was still in a state of gloom, reminding him of this at all times.
If he was truly a weapon forged for some purpose, he would strive to achieve it.
Soshiyang acted in a defensive posture, turned his wrist, raised his sword, and took a step to the left.
Then he stopped, put down his sword, and felt a new existence behind him.
"Seldom are able to defeat their fears with their own sword."
Soshiyang turned around.
"I can't beat it either."
When Talos walked over with a smile, the realistic phantoms disappeared, and the lights lit up, and the light returned to the training room.
Chapter completed!