Chapter 322 Wrong Judgment
It was an extremely terrifying and psychedelic scene. The scaffolding supporting life suddenly turned into thorns blooming from the inside out.
The shape was fixed in place, bloated and stiff, like a painted wood sculpture. The surface was lifted up by the dense growth of things inside, showing a lattice that continued to expand and deepen, with bulging bruises and purple masses in between.
At a certain moment when the tension reaches its limit, the skin is completely penetrated, and the liquid accumulated below is sprayed out like mist, forming a thick and swirling silk curtain.
The staggered spikes were projected between the curtains by the still-extinguished firelight, and seemed to be still extending, making a sharp and harsh sound like grinding teeth.
The shadow of the bone spur catches the eye, and through the natural ability of human empathy, it transmits the fear felt by the person who sees it, penetrating the courage that is on the verge of breaking even before it is formed.
Eyes that can look directly at the sword's edge will drift away unconsciously, escaping subconsciously.
The malicious source of death did not even appear, just like a collector displaying his most proud collection, opening the curtain at the right time and displaying it generously in front of the guests, enjoying the awe of these mortal souls.
【Performative】
Only one pair of eyes never moved away from the beginning to the end, or in other words, never fell on the stage of the unveiling ceremony.
He heard the footsteps before the actors came on stage, and saw the mechanism after the extremely expressive visual display.
Something illusory and formless, something existing in dimensions undetectable by conventional senses, touched the poor man at some point.
It is not static, it is a flute, a rhythmic airflow, carrying some discernible regular fluctuations, as clean and clear as a bone stripped of tissue under rays.
【Spiritual Body】
To be precise, it is a part of the spiritual body that transmits waves with specific directions to the target.
Although such fluctuations had never been induced alone before, the implications were obvious—extreme osteogenesis.
The ability of deep organisms to rapidly build new bones, if isolated and triggered in the wrong place and in the wrong way, becomes a fatal means.
For purposes of this, this is correct.
The previous conjecture was verified, and Kraft immediately made a judgment:
"Spread out and go separately!"
They must not stay together. For this thing, there is no difference between one person and ten people. It is impossible to change the situation by stacking ordinary force.
The team no longer cared where the order came from, and fell apart as soon as they heard the warning.
Green did not stop Kraft from overstepping his bounds. After looking at each other for a short time, he seemed to be still immersed in the horror just now. He started two breaths later, then hurriedly chose the most unwise direction, turned around and ran straight away.
Seemingly to lose weight, he even threw off his wet burqa, but the reflective lining of the chainmail made his entire back shine, making it even more conspicuous.
Craft abandoned the torch and rushed into the nearby fork in the road, trying his best to reduce his presence, and his figure immediately disappeared into the darkness.
He was no longer aware of the spiritual body that released the "spell". The brain is running at high speed while running, fighting for air with the body to think about how to respond.
Could it be that what needs to be dealt with is an intangible and insubstantial thing?
No, he dismissed the idea immediately. In past experience, there has never been a spiritual body that can exist apart from the physical body. Even those consciousnesses that control fungi can only jump between hyphae.
The empty skeleton I saw before also shows that the other party is an entity, and it is an entity that needs to use human tissue like other deep creatures.
It's nearby, just not on the ground.
The dark dome background above the head is cut into strips, and the narrow field of view limits the viewing angle. Something is moving in a blind spot above the rock wall.
It is not small in size, and you can hear scattered high-frequency steps falling on the rock surface, and the sound of bumping against the concave and convex places is like an eight-legged horse galloping, and it is agile and agile like a spider shuttling in a web.
[Solve it as soon as possible? 】The thing's attention is mostly focused on the nearby Green, and there is a chance to solve the problem at once.
As soon as the thought reaches this point, there is almost no need to deliberately activate it. The dim environment becomes clear in my mind, and the heavy rock walls are transparent and unobstructed.
Separated by two layers of rock walls, Green was slowing down, as if he was exhausted or trying to figure out the direction.
But anyone with a little bit of skill can see that his pace and breath are not chaotic at all, and he is in a position where he can use force to change his position at any time, especially suitable for suddenly turning his head to give an unexpected surprise to the pursuers behind him.
It's a pity that this time the opponent is not human. He peeked behind him many times but failed to find the target.
Others have already been led to unknown directions by forked roads and completely disappeared from the range of perception.
Kraft also slowed down, moving against the rock wall that seemed about to collapse at any moment, synchronizing with the speed there.
The priest's fatigue was at least partly feigned, and he was really about to lose his strength.
He could clearly feel the stretching of his spiritual body being tightened like a bowstring, and the flowing pain was buzzing and vibrating in it. He had a premonition that it would break at any time and take a turn for the worse.
Intense mental activities are also reflected on the body. Physical exertion increases significantly. Every movement requires fighting against real and fake pain reflexes. The consciousness is no longer able to distinguish between mental phantom pain and real discomfort.
Maybe they are all real, or maybe the pain is just an illusion of life.
At least his consciousness was still clear, and he was even glad that he didn't come here wearing a set of lined armor. This kind of thing was of no use and would limit his mobility.
The cold, moist air was inhaled into the lungs, but it brought a burning sensation. He fought the urge to gasp for air and inhaled slowly through his nose, maintaining a quiet, steady rhythm.
The "Sword in the Stone" is indeed still usable, but how many times it can be used is a question.
He must treat every opportunity as his last and take action when he has the best possible chance, even if this will bring some risks.
Of course, the risk is not on him for the time being, but on Green.
Although unable to communicate with each other, the priest was still slowing down naturally. From time to time, the sword seemed to accidentally hit the stone surface while running, making a series of crisp sounds that unmistakably exposed the position.
The bait has been laid out, there is no reason not to set the hook. Kraft gritted his teeth and stretched out his mental senses, searching upwards, hoping to find the thing before it took action.
He felt like he had a clearer understanding of this perspective.
The range of perception that was originally similar to vision and hearing has now become more like touch, a kind of physical touch, and his behavior is to stretch his arms in all directions and grope in the dark.
The boundary of perception is the farthest range that the fingertips can reach. We can only feel whether there is something, but cannot describe the specific shape, so it is vague.
The "hand" gropes blindly, bringing shapes and contours into consciousness.
Green, stone, water, stone, still stone.
Maybe the impromptu lure plan failed, maybe it didn't catch up?
The "fingertips" touched something, something illusory and ethereal similar to its own nature.
Kraft was stunned.
Fluctuation, a wave that I had just seen appeared on that thing and rushed straight towards it. The sound of galloping horses sounded from behind and above.
"Damn, come for me!"
Recommend a new book with a very strange style of painting ()
"Tianjin people will never lose SAN"