Of course, before this, I have to anticipate all the possible problems that might occur during flight.
Subsequently, Fang Cheng started to attempt the challenge of pushing beyond the limits within the "Mist Mountain Model" constructed in the mory Palace.
It was like playing a virtual reality flying ga, using a realistic environnt to test whether his ideas were feasible.
If he failed, he would simply reset, adjust the paraters and start again.
This continuous attempt and replay served to identify and redy any flaws.
Every simulation was akin to risking life for precious experience, laying a solid foundation for the final real-life battle.
In the eyes of Lin Chuqiao and others, Fang Cheng stood quietly at the edge of the cliff, seemingly lost in hesitating thoughts.
Everyone dared not utter a sound, afraid to disturb his thoughts.
Suddenly, Fang Cheng’s eyes flashed with a sharp light, showing confidence.
After relentless attempts more than a dozen tis, he finally found a flight route with the highest success rate amidst complicated data and simulated reality, mastering effective responses to various variables.
"Wait for ,"
Fang Cheng said, his voice steady and firm, carrying with it a strength that compelled others to believe in him involuntarily.
Then, under the concerned gazes of Lin Chuqiao and others, he retreated dozens of ters back until his back was against a rock wall.
At this mont, other people in the team watched in surprise and curiosity, whispering among themselves, guessing what Fang Cheng intended to do.
Among them were several who had previously survived the scramble for the Golden Benba Bottle in the forest.
They still felt sowhat intimidated and involuntarily stepped back a few paces, suspecting that this "human beast" might again have so astonishing move.
Fang Cheng paid no mind to the gazes and murmurs around him.
After standing still, he leisurely stretched his neck and limbs.
The joints emitted cracking sounds, adjusting his body state, allowing every muscle to be thoroughly ward up.
Then he crouched slightly, with his upper body leaning forward, supporting himself with his hands on the ground, assuming a standard starting stance for a 100-ter sprint.
His entire body resembled a fully drawn bow, with every inch of muscle filled with power, ready to spring forth at any mont.
As he slightly raised his head, he gazed ahead into the darkness appearing like an endless abyss through his arms.
In his vision, a running route seed to be drawn by a brush, extending straight from beneath his feet to the edge of the cliff, then arching into a parabola, reaching into the sky.
Fang Cheng took a deep breath of the wind brushing his face, his chest rising rhythmically, quickly adjusting his body state.
The piercing cold in the air made him instantly clear-headed and added a sense of excitent for the impending battle.
His blood gradually boiled, causing his body to lean further forward, his hips raised higher.
Pa!
Like a machine at its limit suddenly releasing, Fang Cheng initiated instantly.
His leading foot stomped hard, the ground instantly sinking into a pit,
While his rear foot sprang off, sending fragnts of rock wall flying, leaving a footprint.
Using the strong recoil force, his legs kicked forward swiftly as if fitted with springs, propelling his body forward like an arrow shot from a bow.
The starting action was seamless and explosively powerful, indeed like a supercar roaring to life.
Whalalala—
The engine roared, the sound waves vibrating.
On this mountaintop pinnacle, a more violent gale arose instantly, howling as it swept around.
Where the strong wind passed, grass and leaves trembled violently, rustling, while dust was lifted, rolling toward the people.
The crowd had no ti to react, hastily raising their hands to shield themselves clumsily.
It was indeed hard to imagine that this lightning-fast figure before them was actually a human running.
Before the crowd recovered from their shock, Fang Cheng, like a black lightning bolt, crossed nearly a hundred ters in a flash to the edge of the cliff.
anwhile, his arms swung with power like a bird flapping its wings, providing strong assistance for the continuous acceleration of his body.
Without hesitation, he took a step and jumped, his knees lifted high, lunging off the cliff.
His whole body seed catapulted into the air, carrying inertia, continuing to leap forward dozens of ters
It obeyed the predetermined trajectory, drawing a parabola.
And as his body was about to reach its highest point, Fang Cheng’s mind entered an incomparably calm and focused state.
Everything around seed to co to a halt, even the passage of ti seed to slow down.
In that mont, the entire world consisted only of himself.
Thump, thump.
His heart pounded forcefully in his chest cavity, the echoing sound clear and rhythmic as drumbeats.
Whalalala————
A force seven strong wind howled from behind, like tumultuous ocean waves, generating a forward push.
The wind speed was 13.9-17.1 ters per second, the wind pressure was 120.8-182.8 pascals.
Fang Cheng’s mind worked swiftly, making precise judgnts in an instant.
Thereupon twisting his waist and abdon, skillfully adjusting his posture, simultaneously spreading his arms like an eagle soaring in the sky, utilizing the wind direction, once again harnessing the wind power to continue moving forward.
With a "whalala," his body actually described a smoother arc in the air, thus beginning his gliding journey.
Then, heading unwaveringly towards the Golden Benba Bottle suspended high amid the mist, deciding everyone’s fate.
On the mountaintop, the people were left stunned, unable to snap back to reality for a long ti, with only shock in their eyes and nothing but shock.
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