Section 4: Sword Casting (I)

"Even in a place like the Psychic Master Guild, mediocre people make up the vast majority. Unfortunately, the so-called rules are often made by them, and luckily, if you're strong enough, you don't bother with these bullshit rules. ”

"They refuse to use the tools of inferior people, the things of barbarians playing monkeys. Ingmar sneered and said, "They feel that they have grace and status, which just proves that they are incompetent, and they think that the sword is a waste, which just shows that they themselves are a waste." ”

"Only waste will give up some power in exchange for the recognition of other waste!"

Receiving this good news, Townsend immediately became excited, because he had long had the idea of using a sword combination ability, and he had put a lot of effort into it.

"Then Master!" so he called out with sincerity: "What about the knife? Why didn't you mention the knife?"

"Because Master Ben doesn't know how to use a knife!" Master Ingmar retorted, "Isn't it okay!?"

"Okay, you can say anything!" Townsend secretly lamented that he had hit the wall again this time. But shouldn't this kind of conversation be smooth and uneventful, right? What are the chances of hitting a wall?

It must be that his physique is too good, so it is easy to attract hatred...... Absolutely!

"A true anomaly, mind you, I'm talking about a real anomaly. You don't see him carrying a sword with him, but he must have it and will use it. Ingmar said, "Because our swords are very + passionate, special, and even have to be made by hand." ”

"How special?" Townsend felt that the dry goods were about to arrive, and he was already engrossed.

"It's got to be so special that it can stand up to our pickiness, almost vexatious! Can the blacksmith handle the weight, length, breadth and narrowness, can he make adjustments to the scope of his abilities? The master took off his gloves and glanced at Townsend expressionlessly: "Every battle, depending on the environment, the opponent has different requirements for the sword. Every time we fight, we have to make some adjustments to our swords. ”

"By the way, I've heard of a master with several two-handed swords, and this man is either a rookie or a fool. Ingmar's words are naturally referring to Townsend.

But Townsend didn't react much to his words, and was not ashamed at all: "It means that I am strong." ”

"Show that your horse is strong. Ingmar was clear about this: "Since that's it...... I'll show you how. ”

Seeing that the master was about to demonstrate, the three people next to him hurriedly retreated, and the two ladies still covered their mouths tightly and endured bitterly - no matter who laughed at this time, they would be beaten, and it was twice.

Ingmar slowed down the presentation.

From his outstretched palm, a figure the size of a grain of rice, with pale blue sè lines, floated up, followed by a multi-angled star pattern several times larger, and hundreds of their kind, each of which followed in a large mass on Ingmar's head.

Townsend narrowed his eyes, narrowing his vision and hiding behind his eyelashes—a rare sight!

Ingmar's subtle control came into the field like a spoon stirring a soup pot, or like a whirlwind whisking up dust. The characters and the stars are circling, constantly approaching, repelling, and connecting in twos and threes, a harmonious scene of each going back to his own home and looking for his own mother. They ended up in an unexpectedly unexpected form—a twelve-finger-sized sword.

They flickered, flickered, and then melted into dust.

Townsend was still suspicious, and he sensed a strange reaction around his body. At first, it was a lonely point, but it was like a spark falling into a haystack, and it woke up countless companions in an instant.

It's spreading so fast, it's like explosive gunpowder!

The spread is so wide and chaotic that it is like a wind that sweeps through a shower and finally rushes into a pot of oil the size of the dawn furnace!

From nothing, from weak to strong, flooding in the blink of an eye - if he weren't in this environment, he would never believe that there was a change in this world that even he couldn't distinguish, not only complicated, but also extremely violent.

"Everything in the world, plants, trees, earth and rocks, can be our weapons. Master Ingmar threw out this sentence lightly: "You can see it, you can get it, and you can fight for yourself!"

Townsend was pale and unable to answer, as he had to hold on.

It's just an ability that reacts to it

o Movement, which adds up to a strong and continuous wave of impact, quickly blocking Townsend's ability perception channel! If it weren't for his rapid contraction, even the ability control channel would have been completely cut off!

Except for Ingmar, a pervert, any anomalist in the same position as Townsend will only end up worse than him, and it's okay to lie down on the spot, maybe he will end up disabled.

Townsend was able to hold on because he was too familiar with the ability. This is the killer feature of his transformation, the Daimyo Metal Storm!

Ingmar's name as a master is not false at all, he has completely mastered Metal Storm, especially in terms of casting speed and conversion speed, he is so fast that Townsend only has one feeling, despair!

Except for the lack of actual lethality (no metal particles are arranged in the range), all other steps and layers are available, and they are more than a grade or two stronger than Townsend. Even some of the changes that Townsend knew, but didn't need now, were presented by Ingmar in turn......

But Townsend didn't teach him, he stole it, and being old and not dying is a thief!

Despicable, nasty - grandson!

"You're welcome. Ingmar provoked him lightly: "Actually, I have relied on these advantages to get to where I am today...... Anyway, when no one is around, I will secretly be proud of myself. ”

Townsend was speechless - this kind of top-level political cheekiness, he was almost on fire.

"I like your kind of thinking and vision, and I like your courage and effort to turn your ideas into reality. Who would have guessed that the prototype of this thing was only level one!" Ingmar held out her hand and pointed to the two locations of the metal storm, "But do you see it? There's a gap here, it's not flashy enough, I'll make it up for you." ”

"See—what? What do you say?" Townsend is a jigger, Ingmar made these fames, but it was just to test his own reality?

"Just kidding, who can see the ability?" Townsend changed his words at the right time. Unexpectedly, he found that his surprise was more than his anger - strange, when he encountered this kind of thing before, his first reaction was not to plot to kill him?

Although Ingmar is hard to kill, it is always necessary to plan it.

"Hmph. Ingmar glanced at him disdainfully, and took the initiative to change the topic.

"I didn't let you see the ability, I let you see this. He flipped his palms down, his fingers pointing upwards as if pinching some "transparent air object"—a fine vibration coming from under Townsend's feet, as if something was about to break through the ground.

Metal?

Townsend was sure that this feeling should be that the metal was moving, but where did the metal come from?

"Anomalists have to learn to choose, to choose the environment that suits them, or the abilities that suit the environment. Ingmar's teaching continues: "Then we will have our own sword!"

The ground under the palm of your hand cracks, the stones explode, and the mud peels off.

Countless pieces of gravelly metal, already coalescing and smelting underground, were now pouring up like magma—but barely a few inches above the surface when it spun rapidly, turning itself into an inverted spinning top.

The small sharp cone is shining a bright red light.

The stout pedestal, shaking off the red-hot residue.

By the time the cone reached Townsend's waist, the speed of rotation had weakened, and by the look of the afterimage, it was beginning to deform again, and it was cooling down - it was the hilt!

Townsend has to pay tribute to Ingmar, whose metal storm is superb. This did not prevent him from tilting his nose.

"You use my abilities to make iron!" Townsend finally learned the truth, glaring at Ingmar angrily.

"This barren land. The master disagreed, reached out and grabbed the hilt of his sword and pulled it up: "In addition to this storm, you can use other abilities to instantly gather metal?"

"Choke!", the slender sword body appeared! Townsend could see at a glance that it was a member of the embroidery needle series, and it belonged to the kind with delicate shapes and smooth lines. But the sharpness and magnificence of its real body are not what the model can carry—the magnificent silver splendor circulates in the sword body, crushing the morning lu, and the thin and tough metal trembles slightly, cutting through the cold wind!

"This is my sword, like a woman, and I do not borrow it. Ingmar was arrogant: "But I can introduce you to the ugly fat woman." In the name of cruelty, slaughter, this thing is for you!"

"And then!" Ingmar kicked the inverted top next to her, and a large strip of metal flew up wrapped in iron slag and smashed into the sky with sparks.

"Damn! A lump of iron all over the body! You just tell me to pick it up if you don't die!?"

It's one thing to slander the belly, but Townsend stepped forward without hesitation: "Take it!"

Stretching out his hand, he had already pasted a layer of heat-insulating mat-like elemental abilities in his palm, and his fingers waved and popped out a long string of elemental abilities, and the shower generally hit the thick iron slag, exploding fluffy red crumbs and flying fire!

Townsend swung out his right hand, and as soon as his five fingers tightened his long sword, he took his hand - the hilt was still hot, and the sword body was still full of green smoke.

With a flick of his wrist, the ability stirred up the air currents and blew away the debris that refused to leave.

"Good stuff!" Townsend tried his focus, and it was good.

The little old man is cunning, and he knows how to ponder the other party's appetite when he delivers things - the hilt of the sword is 30 centimeters long, which can be held with both hands; the sword body is slightly wider and the middle ridge is slightly thicker, so it is not a problem to chop; the sword body with ice blue lines embedded in the whole body is nearly 90 centimeters long, the front blade is fully open, and the back is only half open, and the double blades are suddenly retracted to form an extremely sharp sword tip.

The shape of this sword is a little ugly, but the ugly one has a xing character, and the key is that Townsend likes it when he gets it in his hand. What's more, the Sword of the Adeptus is not only used for slashing, it is also a prop with its own instructions and countless possibilities.