Chapter 1869: Chapter 1864: Seedbed of Artifacts (19)

Even if you are the fearless White Heat Knight, you still fall short before my Human Demon Tyrant, haha——

Though there is no sky to shield the sun, amidst the evil clamors of the Mechanical Tyrant, the Sword Spear Knight, clad in pure white and seemingly untouchable, was engulfed by ghastly tentacles in an instant.

Although dodging while slicing off large chunks of these terrifying creations in reverse, the already limited space was utterly filled by this screen-wide attack.

It was obvious that the special constraint created earlier treated all targets equally, and even he, the initiator, was no exception.

Not to mention that the hundreds and thousands of tentacles seemed to attack indiscriminately, yet controlled the angle and force deliberately, truly honoring the drawn boundaries and intentionally not breaking the constraints.

With nowhere to hide, several piercing wounds were instantly left on the slender body, the gruesome scene instinctively evoking compassion.

Yet the grotesque body held no mercy, continuing the assault in an instant.

Sizzle——

Amidst the not entirely withdrawn tentacles, a ferocious giant claw with sharp teeth on each fingertip violently tore the scrawny body apart.

Of course, the cost was that Fu Qian’s bald head had its eyes and nose pierced by a sword spear.

"What a brave guard, but alas, this place will ultimately not escape its fate."

No matter, as long as the mouth can still speak.

The next moment, the death sentence from Fu Qian fully demonstrated the heartlessness of the Brilliant Tyrant.

"How does it feel, Apocalypse Knight——"

And the madness within.

Although promptly, the laughter inducing endless terror was interrupted by a particular sound.

...

As if space shattered into pieces, even as strong as the Brilliant Tyrant, being within was drenched in blood from top to bottom.

Yet the White Heat Knight, almost torn in two, did not continue to dodge or counterattack, but half-knelt on the ground, thrusting the weapon in hand fiercely into the ground—and then the ground was no more.

In that instant, everything within the originally drawn imprisonment collapsed like dominoes.

The effect was countless sharp crystals forming a rasp, frantically grinding everything within.

At least for Fu Qian, that was how it felt.

Simultaneously, seeing the White Heat Knight suddenly laden with dozens of wounds in a blink, this effect was indifferent to friend or foe.

Apart from this gain, another point was that in this area beneath his feet, there indeed wasn’t Lanina hiding.

Lightly leveraging, when the White Heat Knight couldn’t continue the chase, Fu Qian had already withdrawn from the initial imprisonment range.

The previous strike had obviously consumed the arrangement ahead.

The most mysterious part was that the ground within this section hadn’t disappeared but turned into sand-like granules of crystal, just like the earlier comment on the White Heat Knight’s hand feel.

Besides, this was a crystal, not Ice Crystal.

Excluding the nearly indiscernible weight-bearing upon stepping, at that moment Fu Qian didn’t sense coldness from this visually confusing scene.

Truly a counter-intuitive display.

But only for a moment, that place soon felt just like the blackish-green ice wall.

And Fu Qian had no more time to research further, as the White Heat Knight had also leapt out.

...

Full of holes.

No phrase fits better than this.

Unlike Fu Qian, who casually discarded his broken head and fetched another from his neck, the White Heat Knight’s allocation of points to the blood bar was significantly deficient.

One manifestation was that up to this moment, the wounds and holes all over his body showed no signs of repair.

And the previous speculation about hand feel was again confirmed.

Nearly every wound was trickling grains of crystal sand.

Although even collectively, the total flow was not too high, it was evident that this presence was in a countdown to its end.

Truly fearless, barely lowering his gaze for a second, the next moment the long sword pointed this way again, clearly prepared to fight to the death.

But never mind, preparing a stance is one thing; at least there wasn’t an immediate five-link strike, right?

"You have no idea what you are doing, nor can you change anything..."

Watching this tragic scene, a low giggle escaped Fu Qian’s throat, continuing the villain lines instantly.

Of course, Fu Qian didn’t exactly know what "something" meant either.

Saying these lines all along wasn’t out of some perverse pleasure, but trying everything possible.

Compared to the previous plague, this White Heat Knight was noticeably introverted, not fond of communication.

But nonetheless, Fu Qian didn’t abandon the attempt to learn something from anyone.

Consider that with his style, regardless of how polite the tone, casual conversation wouldn’t likely receive any response.

Thus Fu Qian’s core communication philosophy was to start from the resolute killing enemy stance, guessing what the opponent might be most concerned about, attempting to touch with certain elements.

Such as the classic setting of protecting something to the point of losing oneself in endless slaughter.

White armor, great sword, unstoppable, considering his appearance and feel, this kind of backstory felt somewhat plausible.

"Impossible..."

To one’s relief, this effort finally seemed to pay off.

Though it sounded incredibly vague, Fu Qian still managed to discern the speech content that echoed in his mind.

"Seedbed...no impurity allowed...defilement..."

And more content.

It’s just a pity there wasn’t more.

As if able to feel the boundless hatred in the last word, the white great sword slowly rotated, making a gesture eerily reminiscent of a previous nod.

And without maintaining the posture for even a millisecond, the next moment the sword continued moving effortlessly, slicing inch by inch across the already pierced neck, severing it.

Simultaneously, another hand lifted the head, holding it up.

...

So the "impurity" also includes oneself? Could it be too extreme?

Although the entire process was swift, interrupting was still too easy for Fu Qian.

However, he didn’t do so, but observed the actions of the body throughout until the indescribable white filled his vision.

After the self-decapitation, the opponent astonishingly launched an attack without hesitation.

Compared to before, he seemed indeed to undergo some change.

With the head removed, himself treated as filth and obliterated, that white seemed to become even purer.

On one hand, the White Heat Knight seemingly could no longer converse with himself; on the other hand, the destruction brought by the attack was more exaggerated.

Meeting with a long-prepared ordinary punch, Fu Qian silently assessed the body’s feedback.

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