The possibility of brain warfare has increased again.
This level of player is not like cabbage; pulling out two while catching one’s breath is undeniably a bit illogical.
And it’s even more coincidental that they are two old acquaintances whom I imdiately thought of.
The previous judgnt that everything was a side effect of eating mushrooms, thinking whatever cos to mind, has beco more reasonable.
But don’t forget what was just said: side effects are exactly what we want, so—very good.
Roar!
Another Gospel Blast; facing the enthusiastic welco from old friends, Fu Qian’s response was equally intense.
Co, help further develop my brain.
Screech—
Indeed, further developnt.
Fu Qian clearly confird that the Gospel Blast did not affect the Female Sword Saint, only causing ripples around her.
And after switching here, there was no impact; instead, another force pierced the body from all directions in a physical manner.
...
It truly is the Female Sword Saint.
Challenging imagination, as Fu Qian clearly understood that abstract attack rely ca from the opponent in front.
Yet in this special realm, seemingly enhanced by so heavenly truth, directly turning myself into a hedgehog.
The advantage of this peculiar contact seems to also give Fu Qian a doubled opportunity to confirm the opponent’s identity.
Holes as eye sockets, inside and outside fungal threads intertwined, no human skin yet retaining certain basic female characteristics.
And the one seemingly about to cut to pieces is also the kind of genuine Fungus Sword encountered last ti—pity that it’s itself being shattered.
The Gospel Blast didn’t hit the target; there’s still the Biochemical Demon Arm.
The damage inflicted on the body didn’t affect the movent; countless tendrils had already exploded from the right arm, wantonly ravaging everything in sight.
Given that there’s no deliberate maintenance of biological features, so wickedness is absent, while the sharp lines add extra visual impact.
Coupled with the inherently abstract structure within the mushroom vision, Fu Qian’s self-evaluation at that mont was like turning into a tallic drill, madly tearing apart the reality of this world.
The Female Sword Saint is undoubtedly the most direct contact point.
Of course, she wouldn’t stand still and take the hit, showing even more killing intent than the other Sword Saint.
When the Gospel Blast failed, the Body Slaying Sword had already made another move from every direction.
This ti, the visual effect was even more special, bizarrely converging into a flat surface, transforming into a dinsionless rotary blade, slicing the Tyrant’s neck open.
Bang!
Astounding achievent, yet at the cost of her form no longer possessing any female characteristics or even human contours.
Under the terrifying impact, pieces flew everywhere, from point to line, directly spreading into a blooming firework.
The most significant was that center point of the firework, as if an unbreakable barrier had been finally punctured, followed by terrifying suction.
The fungal threads representing "world reality" did not disappear; instead, like shattered tempered glass, instantly disintegrated into another structure.
...
An interesting experience.
One successful move is nothing special, yet the new thing before earned so of Fu Qian’s admiration.
The Mushroom World shattered yet not destroyed, still traversable, though the perception beca more bizarre.
No surprise, to so extent, this seems to carry forward previous evaluations; essentially, it’s still self-induced brain warfare.
Normally, brutal fighting would only muddle stronger will, not make it clearer.
But it doesn’t matter; the goal remains carrying forward, the aim is chaos.
Casually catching the fallen head, adjusting the angle, tossing it back onto the neck, Fu Qian’s progress was unaffected.
Such composure, not simply due to strong recovery ability through fleshy paths; shape damage is superficial for a Superior Being at this level.
Though, the Female Sword Saint’s strike did cause deeper damage, head falling off was just incidental.
For instance, even though the head was reattached seamlessly, the Sword Saint’s killing force still lingered within the Tyrant, commonly known as an internal injury.
If this happens several more tis, even my chanical restoration version would require so effort to stabilize—so a few more tis then?
Through consecutive slaughter, Fu Qian beca increasingly expectant of the Fungus Emperor.
Regardless if this is internal brain warfare, all driven by willingly taking "poison."
If they wish to use such ans to erode the Tyrant, then "He" atop this power perhaps should show more sincerity?
As for you eating poisonous mushrooms, what does it have to do with —do you think my "Insight" is vegetative?
The Abandonnt King has always been the proactive side in this event.
You may show unnamable polluted intelligence, but you cannot deny seeing it—not at all!
Even without using the Tyrant’s unique Fire of Madness, nor activating any aura, more than doubled chanical tendrils are still tearing at the crack.
Proving Sword Saint-level force existence suffices, no need to imagine opponents or create obstacles—that’s Fungus Emperor’s job.
Fu Qian’s approach is straightforward and brutal: keep crushing so-called "world reality" to see what stops , and what erges from it—nothing?
No holding back unnecessarily, at that mont, Fu Qian’s force respects the opponent.
Resulting in the already precarious shattered reality reacting instantly.
Like breaching heavenly principles receiving Divine Punishnt; every fungal thread trembled, severely tearing offending tendrils to pieces—
The response was more tendrils...
Then harsher Divine Punishnt...
And more raging tendrils...
Two seconds later, all fungal threads shattered into dust.
And Fu Qian looked at the seemingly restored Academy, deeply questioning the yield rate.
...
A contest of pure power, devoid of skill, yet the intensity wasn’t hindered.
In the exchange, one could entirely feel so majesty belonging to a Superior Being.
To the extent, leaving no doubt that after "real" was shattered committing a monstrous cri, I must face the divine wrath of those disturbed.
Yet there was nothing.
The night Academy felt desolate, the flying dust didn’t even settle, leaving only a blank earth truly clean.
Indeed, nothing remained.
At a mont, Fu Qian raised his hand, sniffing between fingers as before.
The original strong scent had completely vanished, including all mushroom-induced magic from oneself.
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