Chapter 119 The Absurd Knight

A street corner in Yokohama, the battlefield between Hemingway and Cervantes.

The knight charged again with his lance raised, while Hemingway skillfully used one hand to parry and deflect the lance's trajectory, while simultaneously throwing a punch with his other hand.

Don Quixote's silver armor was shattered, and Cervantes, who was in the middle of the armor, was sent flying backward by the force of the attack, once again creating distance between them.

This distance was very close to Hemingway. But he didn't pursue; instead, he stood still.

Hemingway looked at Cervantes with a complicated expression as he summoned "Don Quixote" again to charge forward and was then knocked away: "This is completely pointless."

The current Hemingway is already far stronger than Don Quixote, and no matter how many times Cervantes summons him, it won't change that.

"And what about this?" Despite not wearing armor, the one-armed Cervantes still used the exaggerated theatrical style only found in Don Quixote mode. "To admit defeat is not the act of a knight."

“If that’s how you feel, I don’t mind.” Hemingway stood with his arms crossed, looking at Cervantes, who was panting heavily. “Excessive sweating, muscle cramps, difficulty breathing—these are clear signs of overexertion. Summoning Don Quixote must have been quite a physically demanding process for you, right?”

Cervantes did not answer, but instead stood there, bowing his head and clutching his wound.

"If you continue like this, you will definitely be the first one to faint from exhaustion."

Having already determined that his injuries would render him unable to help Asimov even if he rushed there, Hemingway unexpectedly had plenty of time.

Seeing Cervantes's unyielding spirit, Hemingway sighed and continued, "Is this your persistence?"

"If things continue like this, I'm definitely going to be the one who loses."

Cervantes finally caught his breath, straightened up against the wall, and a faint smile appeared on his face as he looked at Hemingway.

"I never said I was just going to admit defeat like this, did I?"

Armor began to appear on Cervantes once again. But this time, before the armor could fully form, rust-red stains spread across it, eventually covering the entire armor, turning the silver armor into a rust-red liquid.

The rust-red liquid dripped onto the ground centered on Cervantes, then flowed and trembled in all directions, looking from a distance almost like a pool of blood.

Although he didn't know what it was, Hemingway had a bad feeling.

Hemingway took two steps back to avoid the area covered in "blood," frowning: "What is this?"

Cervantes, amidst the sea of ​​blood, coughed twice: "Of course, it's 'Don Quixote'."

Cervantes's superpower "Don Quixote" is not so much about summoning a knight's armor, but rather about creating a superpower substance.

When Cervantes was in a stable emotional state, this substance also exhibited stability, and the objects composed of it possessed extraordinary hardness and toughness, and the mechanical structures formed could also exert superhuman strength.

From the outside, "Don Quixote" at this time appeared to be silver-white.

However, when Cervantes's spirit fluctuated violently, that is, when the color of "Don Quixote" changed from silvery white to blackish rust red, it meant that its nature had completely changed.

All matter is in constant, irregular, high-speed motion. However, the strength of the intermolecular bonds remains unchanged. The high-frequency vibrations are like a frantically operating chainsaw, and the solid they form is no longer indestructible, but becomes indestructible.

The total amount of material that "Don Quixote" could produce seems to be directly proportional to the mental stress that Cervantes endured.

However, this is just speculation, since there are not enough experiments to prove it.

However, it must be said that initially, during Cervantes' normal period, his "Don Quixote" could only be covered by a rather thin layer of armor. But as his mental state deteriorated, "Don Quixote" actually grew stronger.

Finally, when he developed severe paranoia (which he actually did), the intensity of "Don Quixote" reached its current level.

At this moment, Cervantes was not covered by armor, and the berserk "Don Quixote" was uncontrollable even by the user, and would also be cut.

Amidst the rust-red, blood-like waves, figures clad in heavy armor slowly emerged. Their bodies were covered in rust and cracks, yet they exuded a deathly oppressive aura.

The heavily armored figures drew their lances from the sea of ​​learning, their constantly trembling and changing shapes gradually solidifying into surging, rusty red knights.

Under Hemingway's solemn gaze, Cervantes covered his wound and chuckled softly twice, then opened his arms and began to recite aloud like an announcer.

"In this age where knights have vanished, in this age where armor has rusted, please enjoy this ancient feast brought about by supernatural abilities!"

"The rebirth of corroded armor, the return of the undead from the mountain of corpses—this is the return of the [Age of Knights]!"

This is the ultimate application of "Don Quixote," reenacting the armored torrent that crushes all enemies into blood and bones within a radius of about twenty meters centered on Cervantes.

Virtue as bones and glory as blood, steel as body and victory as armor—this is the long-gone "Age of Knights," sublimated in fantasy.

"I haven't actually used [Knight Era] many times. But every time before, I could only use it when my physical strength and mental energy were completely exhausted."

As Cervantes spoke, he slowly slid down the wall, and having lost his last bit of strength, he sat down on the ground.

"As a return gift for not taking action before, I'll tell you something too," Cervantes' voice grew fainter and fainter, like the last few words of a person on the verge of unconsciousness. "Based on previous experience, the [Knight's Age] can last for about ten minutes. Then I will faint from complete exhaustion. So you just need to hold on until this period is over and you will be safe."

"However, I was almost unconscious and acted entirely on instinct during that time, so don't expect me to go easy on you."

His consciousness gradually blurred, and he could no longer clearly distinguish the things in front of him. The last things he could recognize were the rusty red knights charging towards Hemingway, and Hemingway himself charging at him.

Cervantes, leaning against the wall and surrounded by blood, was clearly extremely weak, yet he wore a victor's smile.

Don Quixote is not a disease, but he is certainly a fantasy.

People who are preoccupied with many things find it difficult to truly express themselves. The gaze of others may not hurt, but it can cause them pain.

Cervantes needed a medium to escape reality, and that's how "Don Quixote" came to be.

Idealists are unrealistic; they only look up at the stars, their hands still reaching for the unattainable cosmos, scarred by their clash with reality. But even if they die for it, their hands will never be covered in mud.

Cervantes was a mortal man, and could be defeated.

But Don Quixote will ultimately be invincible!