Multiple forces bestowed Hert with extraordinary power, and wielding a slender longsword, he stirred up a storm of blades amidst the ever-present mist.
Suddenly, it seed as if an army had appeared within the fog, slashing their blades towards the nearest opponents. But just as the longsword was about to rise, a hurricane erupted, violently clashing with the drifting mist.
Secret Energy·Furious Wind Pardon.
Palr invoked the tempest, stirring up a small storm within the ruins. The spreading mist carried Hert’s ether, interweaving with the storm, as arcs and sparks filled the air.
The crackling sound echoed like dense drumbeats in everyone’s ears, as if they were in a small thunderstorm. The arcing electricity struck their bodies, sending a tingling sensation.
As a Prayer Believer, Palr naturally couldn’t shake Hert’s mist, but the Clarks’ Secret Energy was always adept at leveraging power.
No words were needed from Palr; Bologue knew exactly what to do. Nurous life-and-death battles had forged a profound understanding between the two.
Two fla-shaped swords took form in his hands, their blade tips flowing with a blood-like crimson hue. Bologue suddenly spun and hurled them like teors towards both sides of the ruins.
The darkness returned a series of collision sounds. The Red rcury ignited with a furious blaze, turning the cabin into a blood-red hell.
From the outside, the sides of the Paradise suddenly exploded from within, as if a deadly shell had pierced through the ship, bisecting its body.
The thick smoke dissipated instantly, and Palr caught the distinct scent of ocean breeze.
What Palr was worst at handling was closed spaces, which severely restricted the release of his Secret Energy. Now that the shackles were broken for him, he harnessed the storm’s power once again, with wind speeds of a hundred kiloters per hour surging into the cabin along the ship’s breach.
This was the real storm.
The howling gale blew so fiercely that no one could lift their heads, with translucent ribbons fluttering in the wind, like transparent ribbonfish, pouring into the cabin in succession, colliding with everything along the way.
Palr’s ether was racing towards depletion. He felt like a car with its pedal floored, the fuel gauge’s needle dropping visibly.
He couldn’t hold out for long, but the ti he maintained was already enough!
The white mist couldn’t withstand the high-speed airflow and Palr’s Ethereal Shock any longer, rapidly thinning out. Hert imdiately released his Etherealization, or he would be squeezed out of the Paradise along with the mist by the strong wind.
"Damn it!"
Hert cursed. Everything was going so smoothly until he encountered these freaks.
His power as a Negative Power User couldn’t suppress Palr and Bologue’s cooperation for a mont, and that lunatic Bai Ou had completely imrsed himself in his crazy delusions. He shouldn’t have placed his hopes on that pathological Undead.
Bologue, braving the gale, raised his hand. Sharp blades and axes sprang from the ground like creatures breaking through the earth, snapping open their bloodthirsty jaws towards Hert.
A flash of the blade, and the axes shattered.
In terms of Ethereal Amplification research, Hert surpassed Bologue. If given enough ti and resources, he even felt he could touch the "Extre Realm," the honorary title for mastering an Ethereal Skill to its highest level.
Bologue wasn’t surprised by such an outco. He never thought a trick of this magnitude could harm Hert.
Canary couldn’t offer them much help now. The woman’s sole objective was Bai Ou, with everything else secondary. She ignored Hert and leaped to the next level, continually pressing the Iron Coffin to prevent Bai Ou from escaping the cage.
Bologue had to find a way to deal with Hert. Beneath the calm exterior, within the Heart Core Net, Bologue and Palr almost scread at each other, which troubled the forcibly listening Aimou and the connection-node Yuriel.
This was a real crisis, a true test of adaptability.
Palr exerted all his effort to maintain the raging storm, preventing Hert from spreading his white fog. But when Palr’s ether was exhausted, Hert’s deadly mist would spread again, and Bologue was not confident in evading a Negative Power User’s blade.
Bologue did not fear death, yet entering a death state would undoubtedly disrupt the precariously balanced standoff, and without his support, Palr would be the next on the list of the dead, followed by Canary and everyone else.
Ti was running out for Bologue, with Palr incessantly urging him to kill Hert, even resorting to curse words.
At this mont, Bologue wished for a mute button to filter out Palr’s voice, as that bastard’s noise was starting to interfere with his judgnt.
Hert naturally had no idea what was happening inside the Heart Core Net. He only found the sight of Bologue in front of him unbearably irritating. Coincidentally, whispers of urging also echoed in Hert’s mind, but they ca from hallucinations and pain.
The faces of his wife and daughter, a beautiful future, everything promised by the Joyous Desire Witch.
All the voices vanished, whether sweet or harsh, evil or gentle... Hert had never felt his mind so quiet, as if all the troubling tenants had disappeared.
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