Flying streamers, severed limbs, blood, gunfire.

At the moment when the demon behind him was about to catch up, he finally escaped from this nightmarish long road.

The flickering golden tip of the spear grazed his back, and if he hadn't subconsciously taken a flying pounce and rolled on the ground, the slender spear might have run from his back to his chest, and the sharp air currents would have cut him in half.

The night at the suburban airport was cold, but the air rushing to his lungs at this moment still carried the strong smell of gunpowder.

The pain was mixed with the happiness of the rest of his life, and he could feel the tense muscles reaching the limit with his head down, and from time to time there was a spasm feeling. The state of blood explosion was also about to fade, but under the forced maintenance of his will, he barely stabilized.

The severed left hand didn't have time to stop the bleeding, and even if a large stream of blood gushed out, he couldn't delay the escape time for a second or two to bandage it.

He escaped, and he was the only one who escaped.

Enduring the severe pain, he lit the lighter he carried with him, quickly burned the wound with an external flame, scorched the section to stop the bleeding, and at the same time tore a piece of cloth from the tattered trench coat on his body for emergency bandaging.

"Bastard ......"

As the leader of the operation team and the commissioner of the executive department of the Hundred Battles Elite, there was a faint glint in his eyes at this moment.

The elite of the entire group was slaughtered in less than five minutes, and half of them were sacrificed voluntarily to cover his escape, holding a gun and forcibly blocking the ghostly and unstoppable shadow with **. He didn't even have time to turn back, and if he wanted to pass the news on to the academy, he could only continue to run away amid the desperate howls of his teammates, and that was the last sound they made.

No matter how iron-clad a man is, he will not feel heartache in the face of such a cruel war situation.

"Bastard!"

He roared, his only remaining right hand holding the glittering crossbow and pointing it into the flames that had burst into the sky.

The firelight was silent on its own, swaying wantonly and crackling on the many jeeps that had long been swallowed, and countless mockery and banters rose ∵dǐng∵diǎn∵ Xiao ∵ said, .2◇3.→os_(); The arc and light of the sting.

He escaped.

Having lost an arm, suffered dozens of deep wounds, and carried the hopes and lives of a dead teammate, only to find that nothing more than one Nibelungen had traveled from one Nibelungen to another, a much larger Nibelungen.

Despair.

The blue-gray sky was overcast, and dark blue thunder and lightning swung through the clouds, but the speed was surprisingly slow, as if a picture had been stilled.

The airport is still the same airfield, but tenacious weeds have grown on the take-off runway, hanging ominously and in a sparse meadow, announcing the isolation and extinction of the real world here.

All of them were shrouded in a dead gray, whether it was the cold light of the conning tower, or the scattered fragments of clothing and blood on the ground.

The light of the fire flickered, and then deferentially parted from it, like a living squire, making way for the king it guarded.

"You-"

A huge black shadow came out of the shadow of the flames, gradually becoming clear.

The blue-gray eight-legged Pegasus Lebnir snorted, as if spitting thunderous iron filings, and the height of three meters undoubtedly showed that this creature could only exist in fantasy or ancient time, and its joints were also covered with delicate and heavy bronze armor, and the sound of heavy iron hooves hitting the ground every time it hit the ground explained the weight of this armor.

Odin sat upright in the saddle, his face and neck wrapped in a blood-red shroud, except for a golden eye that revealed his identity.

The spear, which looked like a meteor and lightning, lay across the saddle, and it was hard to imagine that it could exert great speed and power in the shape of such a handicraft.

Pressure.

The pressure surging up like a tidal wave almost robbed him of all the air he breathed at the moment, and in the moment he opened his vision, the pale golden realm slowly but resolutely declared its sovereignty, enveloping the wasteland within a radius of hundreds of meters.

He fell to his knees on one knee, the weight of his body pressing down on him, so much so that his spine had to bend downward, while at the same time making an overwhelming twisting sound from his hard resistance.

His left hand was gone, and in order to keep the crossbow in his right hand upright, he could only end up with his head on the ground in humiliation, so as to avoid the tragedy of his spine being directly crushed.

Odin was silent, bowing his majestic head slightly, quietly watching the unyielding and struggling worshipper.

"Surrender, or die."

The sound of thunder did not seem to come from the helmet, but seemed to reverberate throughout the Nibelungen.

He didn't answer, the gums clenched too hard to make the sound of the roots of the teeth cracking, and blood trickled out of his mouth, eventually turning into a twisted smile on his cheeks.

Three bursts of blood.

Thin scales burst out from every part of his body at the same time in an instant, and as an experienced commissioner, although his words and spirits were not very powerful, he was definitely not unfamiliar with the forbidden technique of bursting blood.

In a sense, he has struggled on the line of life and death countless times, and Cheng Dù, who has exploded blood three times, even surpassed Chu Zihang.

Crossing the second blood explosion and directly opening the final Cheng dù will certainly cause irreparable damage to the body, but what he wants is the explosive power of this moment.

It was as if there was really a dragon raging in his veins, roaring in his heart, and the moment the third burst of blood opened, he broke through Odin's realm suppression, although at this moment his spine and even his neck bone made a strange breaking sound.

But it doesn't matter.

The moment before the spinal nerve rupture, his cerebral cortex finally gave one last command, and the nerve impulse was transmitted to the muscle effector in the arm area, and the index finger contracted violently.

"Bang-"

It wasn't some earth-shattering explosion, but the body of his neck that was completely twisted and broken fell to the ground, smiling contentedly.

The quartz arrow didn't fire as fast as he leaped on the ground, yet it silently ignored the golden field that was strong enough to defend against the frontal onslaught of the RP, and approached Odin's chest.

A golden light flashed, and the spear Gungnir was already in his hand, slashing through the crossbow arrow, and exploding a not-so-brilliant firework in the air.

Odin remained silent, his golden eyes watching the long-lasting fireworks, and the golden armor that held the spear gradually tightened.

And so the fireworks burst out.

Quiet, beautiful, yet unstoppable. Advance like a tidal wave in the sky, sweeping a qiē.