Snowflakes are drifting around...... Teng Yunshen struggled in a vague consciousness...... Lightning illuminated his eyes. Pen | fun | pavilion www. ｂｉｑｕｇｅ。 info It was a beam of light, and a rope, that dragged him out of the drowsy darkness. It was the magic of an evil wizard, arrogant, but it aroused his fighting spirit, and his anger burned brightly.

They were deceived, they were betrayed.

The wizard wielded the whip of lightning and not only knocked down Teng Yunshen, but also the wizard who was guarding Teng Yunshen, and these people did everything in their power to save him from the cage.

The snowflake ball is just a trick. It made Teng Yunshen think that he was reaching out to his comrades who had fallen into the trap. Actually, it was not a prison, but a fortress. Wizards have not lost their freedom. He hid inside, ready to strike the decisive blow.

The wizard succeeded. The slight flaws that he noticed at the last moment failed to arouse Teng Yunshen's vigilance, and the wizards who helped him were experienced, but they were equally defeated.

The lightning struck Teng Yunshen, who couldn't move, again, breaking his arm. He is the child of destiny on the day of fate, but he will still be killed. Even unbeatable heroes are invincible to mysterious fate. Fate gave him energy, but it did not promise him victory.

But Teng Yunshen has not given up. For the sake of people, even those he didn't know, he had to keep fighting.

He found his shadow, and then gently picked it up, like plucking a feather from a plaster cast.

Teng Yunshen didn't quite understand why he was able to find a feather in the plaster statue. That's the magic of poetry again, isn't it? When the poet says the verses, it's not them who speak, it's the gods on high. They have lost their own sanity and gained otherworldly wisdom. Poetry is a bridge between the mortal world and the divine realm, conveying ineffable magic. Poetry is the sublimation of language, in which the will of the gods is entrusted, and is manifested among people.

Teng Yun sank into the shadows. Lightning streaked across the ground, spilling shadows like water. Teng Yunshen seemed to go with the flow, and involuntarily spread his hands and feet.

He was still thinking, trying to give the fragments of the mantra a reliable shape.

The plaster seems to be hard and the feather is soft, the two are completely different, what kind of flash of inspiration binds them together?

The wizard swung another whip, slamming Teng Yunshen's hearing.

He shuddered. He grabbed something. Yes, it is...... A flash of inspiration.

The bird is a symbol of loftiness and freedom, and the feathers it falls become the writer's pen. Shadows are light, and feathers are light. What about inspiration? It is a faint spark that shines in the heart, and it is also very light. Teng Yunshen picked up the shadow and also picked up the feather.

The ground carries the shadows of the people, while the plaster statues carry the inspiration of the sculptors. Who can say that the illiterate old people who can tell stories to children are not imaginative enough? Perhaps they are just untrained compared to artists......

Teng Yunshen picked up the shadow again, this time, not for the magic of the shadow, but for the imagination of people. Lightness alone wasn't enough to associate shadows and feathers in such a form, but he felt something in his heart and had a whim.

He picked up a shadow from the ground like a feather from a plaster statue. He left behind the ground, but also the hordes of plaster casts.

Plaster statues are solidified history, art, and emotion. They are pale, but full of color. They are motionless, but alive.

They exude the energy that Teng Yunshen needs. They retain the most profound features of the hero. With their tragic struggles, they show the preciousness of human nature and the cruelty of fate.

Teng Yun drew deep into the energy gained from their indomitability, and the power of fate once again pieced together his scarred body.

He walked away from the shadow as he reached for the thunder-wielding wizard. He is not pushing the weight of the latter, but it seems to be ...... Balance. The wizard stumbles between plaster and plaster cast.

Teng Yunshen put his balance and the wizard's balance on the scale, and then tore the wizard in half.

The battle in the Third Hall is over.

The attackers immediately decided and began to evacuate. They had prepared a way out, but the wizards, who were still in shock, could not stop them. That's the difference between a civilian and a killer. However, the attackers could not deal with Teng Yunshen, and they could only escape.

Teng Yunshen allowed the attackers to flee. He distributed the energy to the wounded wizards and rushed to the square.

He sensed that fate was about to recoup his gift. His aura was cloudy and crumbling. Before the power of fate is completely gone, he has to break the predicament of the second hall -

Teng Yunshen stopped, and under his gaze, the wizards pushed open the door of the second hall, they were extraordinary people, but they would not do nothing while waiting for fate to help.

Fate left him. Exhaustion and cold slammed into him, almost knocking him to his knees, but it was only a second before he regained his center of gravity.

Jiang Xiaoxiao and Su Ruiwen waved to him, and they didn't bother to talk to him, so they ran to the first hall in a panic. Teng Yunshen realized that there was someone there who the girls cared about very much, so he panted and followed.

The wizards made way for him. He had lost the favor of his fate, and was now nothing more than a weak third-order wizard, but what he did was enough to be feared by the people. Not every wizard has the opportunity to walk into the day of fate, and not even every wizard has the opportunity to witness the fate of the person with his own eyes. In the wizarding world, this is almost the only phenomenon that can be called a miracle.

Teng Yunshen stepped into the first hall and quickly found Jiang Xiaoxiao and Su Ruiwen.

They were crying, and his heart twitched. There was a gloomy atmosphere everywhere, but they were the only ones who shed tears. In the face of death, they are still just children.

Teng Yunshen staggered over.

He couldn't empathize with them, and he was willing to sacrifice himself to save others, but it wasn't easy to grieve for a stranger. Still, they may need his comfort.

He also noticed another slightly familiar face—the wizard who had been on a mission with Jiang Xiaoxiao last night.

The body lay in the boy's arms. He noticed Teng Yunshen, and forced a friendly expression to endure the pain.

Teng Yunshen was really uncomfortable. Even though he lost his important companions, the boy still cares about the emotions of others...... Teng Yunshen quickened his pace and came to their side. He held his breath.

The corpse in the sorcerer's arms had only half a face.