Thankfully, there were still a few inches between the scratches, not in the same place.

Philip finally knew the purpose of the Moonblade, which was to cut the chains that connected the two spirit cores and break the connection with each other.

And the dark red tentacle that kept cruising above the blue spirit core, if he guessed correctly, wanted to take the blue spirit core lock back after cutting it.

When he first awakened, he had incarnated into nothingness to take a look at the two satellites, where he had found a majestic palace, and before he could investigate in detail, he saw that the two palaces seemed to be aware of his prying eyes, and sent out a wave of fluctuations, scaring him away.

At the time, I was just surprised, but now I know what it really does.

Naturally, Philip would not sit still, and the broadsword in his hand slashed through a graceful arc and slashed at the next moon blade.

But to his surprise, as soon as the broadsword touched the entity of the moon blade, he felt an incomparably fierce force from above, knocking him out with the sword and the people, and the moon blade just changed the angle and continued to slash at the chain.

Philip rolled around on the ground a few times before stopping, looked at the gap in his broadsword, and suddenly cursed himself for his stupidity.

He hurriedly transformed his broadsword into a giant shield.

This time it was much better, and the moon blade slammed against the giant shield with a crisp sound, like the sound of striking a gold artifact.

It took three or four steps back from his feet before he unloaded all his strength, but about half of the force passed through the shield and slammed into his chest, which was blocked by the chestplate.

Even so, his chest was still so swollen that he would vomit blood if it weren't for the lack of real flesh.

This time, Philip finally learned that the Moonblade was not a good type, and it was not as simple as he imagined.

If he continued to resist, the only result would be to be shattered by the power contained in the Moon Blade, and the result might even be even more serious, just like back then.

However, Philip is no longer the rookie he was at the beginning, and after a few years of tempering, he has transformed into a brave warrior and will never be beaten passively in the face of fate again.

Since you can't do it, let's try the power of awakening.

He has decisively turned on all four abilities, especially prediction, which I believe will help the current situation.

He was right, as the knots on the green spirit core were lit, the entire armor became more gorgeous as if the Saint Seiya had transformed.

The rapidly flying moon blade seemed to slow down in his eyes, even more so after triggering the prediction.

Originally, two could intercept the next one, but now it finally blocked three in a row, but unfortunately the strong wall seems to only strengthen the defense of the body, and has no effect on the defense of the soul, and the remaining energy is still so uncomfortable to bombard his body, and the effect of madness is only reflected in the reaction ability, and there is no bonus to strength.

To his disappointment, he thought that without the shackles of his body, he could increase the amplitude to a higher multiple.

But this energy-like moon blade seems to be different from the previous light arrow or light whip, and the specific difference is not clear to Philip, but the damage it causes to the spirit core body is far less than the former, but it contains a special power, every time he is hit, his spiritual power will have some disorders, and it is often maintained at twice the amplitude is very reluctant, not to mention higher multiples, and often makes him directly withdraw from the awakened state.

In this way, Philip kept restarting his awakening, stubbornly and awkwardly resisting, he could only barely block three of the four moon blades, and the last one could only watch as it left a shallow mark on the chain and could not do anything.

To add insult to injury, the Moon Blade grew in power as time passed, and its length grew by about an inch, and it showed signs of continuing to grow.

There was nothing unusual about his shield and breastplate, not even a scratch, but he felt that he could not support it anymore, his legs were trembling slightly, and his chest was so stuffy that he could faint at any moment.

That won't work, he glanced at the blue stone pillar in the corner, and it was still half high, and he had to find another way.

At this moment, Philip suddenly sensed that there was something more in his body, or rather on top of the green spirit core.

It's as if a few slender hairs have fallen into the originally pure well water, although there are not many, but they are unusually obvious under perception.

He didn't know what it was, and he didn't have time to think about it, or did his best to stop the Moonblade's attack.

A moment later, Philip, who was a little weak under his feet, was knocked to the ground by a moon blade flying from behind him, and rolled down to the bottom of the stone pillar to stabilize his body.

He sat up with his back against the stone pillar, watching feebly as the Moonblade wreaked havoc in the space.

Even if it hadn't been slashed at the same mark, the chains that had already been hit by more than a dozen moon blades still let out a crisp wail, and the originally smooth surface began to become mottled.

He angrily punched the ground hard, venting the frustration in his heart.

Suddenly, the fluffy things in his body moved slightly, and one of them turned into a streamer of light that condensed on his fist.

He looked at his fist, and the light lingered in front of him for a long time, but it looked a little familiar.

At this time, another moon blade pierced the sky and flew over, making Philip's mind have a flash of inspiration, isn't this the color of the moon blade, and the fluff in his body is also the moon blade that has shrunk countless times.

Philip jerked to his feet, awakened, and slammed his fist into a moonblade.

The strange thing is that when the two intersected, there was no force of the shock, and the sharp moon blade only flashed and disappeared into the void.

At the same time, the white light on the fist did not dissipate completely, but only about half of it remained, and Philip was surprised by this huge discovery.

After stopping a moon blade again, he tried to mobilize the energy in his body, but this time, no matter how hard he tried, the tiny fluffy moon blades didn't react at all.

But it also allowed him to discover the source of this energy, and every time he successfully intercepted the next moon blade, he would have such a fluff in his body.

It felt terrible to have no treasure but not be able to use it, and for the rest of the day, Philip kept thinking about what had happened when he had just punched him.

After more than a dozen experiments, it has been confirmed that it has nothing to do with specific actions, so the only possibility is emotions.

He was being controlled by anger when the punch was delivered, and Philip struggled to recall the memories that upset him, such as Dean's attack on Bruce.

The result was a mixed blessing, with the good news that his spirit had finally made contact with the white fluff, and that the small energies had finally begun to shift towards the shield and one-handed sword in his hand.

The worry is that this energy is only halfway through the transmission and then dissipates, and it returns to the form of fluff again.

When he tried to make himself angrier, the fluff didn't react anymore.

It's not anger, but what is it?

Philip gritted his teeth and looked at the continuous flow of white moon blades, and fiercely swung out the one-handed sword in his hand, and suddenly a white light condensed on the blade, splitting the huge moon blade in front of him.

Wait, he finally got it.

Previously, he had only been passively thinking about resisting, and it would be good to survive this time.

Before swinging this sword, he glanced at the blue stone pillar inexplicably, and suddenly realized that similar situations might become the norm in the future, and the duration might get longer and longer, and the power of the moon blade would become greater and greater.

He was angry and unwilling, but a ruthlessness welled up in his heart.

It was not yet clear what was going on with these two hostile moons, but how they could appear in his spirit world as such a high Inquisitor.

Judging from the energy level of the other party, he obviously has the ability to kill him with one move, but he just plays like this little bit by bit, just like a god facing a small human being, slowly ravaging him to death in despair and helplessness.

Philip is not reconciled, since you are going to judge me, then one day I will fly to the surface of the moon and destroy those two mysterious palaces with my own hands.

Whether it's judgment, verdict, or whatever, in short, when Philip's heart swells up with this intense unwillingness, the fluffy energy in his body quickly establishes a connection with his spirit, turning into white light and covering his blade.

Moreover, this time the energy was far more than before, and it took a full pair of five moon blades to be consumed, and at this time, the fine fluff in his body was only slightly reduced.

Although he didn't understand the rules of energy conversion here, it seemed to be a bit contrary to the laws of conservation that he was familiar with, but at the moment the consumption was far less than he expected.

So Philip couldn't care about it for the time being, and finally got an effective weapon, and he had to throw himself into fierce resistance.

In order to accumulate more of this energy to deal with stronger and stronger attacks in the future, every once in a while, he would use his shield and body to resist, and then recover when he couldn't bear it, and the cycle repeated.

As time passed, the moon blades flying in the sky grew larger, the scars on the chains grew, and the fluffy energy in his body grew.

Just as he was getting used to it, the long-forgotten blue stone pillar finally sank to the ground, and as it darkened before his eyes, Philip fainted again.

"Philip, you're alright. He opened his eyes to see Wesley's worried look.

"Has the game started?" asked Philip, who was about to start in ten minutes, and he was stuck in an unknown space for at least half an hour.

"It's a few minutes, but you didn't respond to the call just now, are you okay?" asked Wesley with concern.

Philip breathed a sigh of relief and shook his head, it seemed that time inside and outside was not at the same speed.

Finally, with the notice of the organizing committee, all the teenagers walked onto the field in good spirits and began their championship battle.

In the crowd, Philip, who had not yet recovered, was looking at the scene around him with anxiety, mechanically following the marching procession, switching between two completely different worlds, which made him feel very uncomfortable, as if sleepwalking.