Chapter 488: Heartbroken and I Can't Breathe (Ten Thousand)

This was the first head-on confrontation between Ron and Patridge, and it ended with Patridge running away.

Obviously, he was a world-famous sage, and almost no one in this vast Dusk Continent could be a match for Patridge. However, facing Ron, who was far inferior to him in strength, Patridge simply dropped hundreds of clones as bait to confuse and attract Ron's attention, and he took this opportunity to escape.

Partridge was being too cautious.

In fact, if Patridge had persisted a little longer and investigated more carefully, he would have discovered that although the white worm looked very scary, the pollution it released was also difficult for him to resist.

But, in fact, the white worm is just an empty shell.

There is no soul in the body of the white worm.

Although an evil god's body without a soul can also exert quite amazing power, its absolute destructive power cannot be compared with that of a complete body. Being able to have one-tenth of its normal power is already the limit.

To describe him as outwardly fierce but actually weak is the most appropriate.

What's more, in order to facilitate his own control, Ron also refined the body of Alexius into a holy relic.

Although it is indeed more convenient to use and Ron can fully control it as if it were his own arm, the power of the evil god's corpse itself has declined significantly during the refining process.

If Patrick had a little more courage and investigated more carefully, he might be able to see the truth. If Patrick was really willing to risk everything and fight Ron, even if Ron had the help of the six-winged fallen angel Niafu, it would be hard to say who would win in the end.

At the very least, Patridge would never be in such a mess.

In order to escape, not only did he sacrifice hundreds of clones, he even had no time to care about his right arm which was still fighting with the left arm of the Last Dusk King in the sky.

This is the truth that Partridge has always upheld, that is... life is the most important.

We only have one life, and if we die, we lose everything.

No matter what you have to sacrifice, as long as you can survive, it is worth it. As long as you are alive, there is still hope.

"hold head high!"

Arriaius' body let out an earth-shattering roar.

His mouth opened wide and two figures flew out. They were Ron and Niafu.

After Ron and Niafu broke away, an extremely strong attraction suddenly came from the mouthparts. The strengths of Patridge's clones that filled the underground palace were different. The powerful clones could reach the peak level of legendary level, and the weaker clones were also at the legendary three or four stars. But without exception, no clone's realm could break through to the destruction level.

These clones, if placed on the Dusk Continent, would be considered masters, but when facing Alecius, the clones' strength seemed extremely fragile and not worth mentioning at all.

With a whoosh, streams of air gushed out from the mouthparts, directly rolling up one of Patrich's clones after another and dragging them into the mouthparts. As Alecius's body squirmed, there was immediately a series of crackling sounds. There was no doubt that these clones had been completely crushed the moment they were swallowed by Alecius.

Ron didn't care about these clones. He knew that they could only interfere with his vision and perception at best and could not cause any real harm to him. He looked upwards.

Both arms were clenched into fists, still punching each other hard.

The impact was no more than the force of two mountains colliding.

Every collision of fists would cause the entire underground palace to shake. Unfortunately, this underground palace had endured too many impacts that it should not have endured, and it was already shaky and seemed likely to collapse at any time.

The residual soul in the right arm has been completely wiped out by Patridge. Now, the right arm is controlled by a strand of will separated from Patridge. Although Patridge's body has escaped, this arm still has not given up resistance. The strength of the two arms is almost the same, and they are basically evenly matched.

However, this balance is achieved without interference from others.

Once a third party intervenes, the balance will be broken instantly.

"when!"

"Time is slow."

As Ron gently hooked his finger, the bell of the Clock of Time rang again, and the right arm of the Last Twilight King suddenly slowed down.

Zhou Yang was obviously also a smart guy, so he would not miss this opportunity. He suddenly opened the five fingers of his left hand, grabbed the wrist of his right hand, and slammed it heavily to the ground with a bang.

The poor ground of the underground palace was smashed into a huge deep pit.

Large clouds of smoke and dust rose directly from the ground.

"when!"

"Time stands still."

"boom……"

Boom! Boom! It was obviously his own arm, but Zhou Yang was really ruthless. With Ron's help, he smashed the other arm to the ground in a short time. Even the trace of divine consciousness left by Patridge in his right arm was forcibly shattered by Zhou Yang.

On the other side, Niafu, who had just emerged from Alecius's belly, did not return to the ring.

Six wings supported Niafu's body as she floated in the air. Her head was slightly raised, and her cold eyes silently stared at the cracked stone wall above her head. It seemed as if her eyes could penetrate the obstruction of the stone wall and peek into the scene farther away.

Niafu maintained this posture for about thirty seconds, and then she suddenly smiled.

Niafu was born extremely beautiful.

She was just a very quiet person with almost no expression on her face. But now that she suddenly smiled, Ron felt even more amazed.

That smile contained a hint of mockery.

It's like laughing at some stupid idiot who doesn't realize it.

After a brief pause, Niafu stretched out her left hand, and a pitch-black longbow appeared in her palm. No one knew what material the bow was made of. It was as black as ink, and it was shining with a dark metallic luster, exuding a strong evil. The bowstring was scarlet, slender and long, and one could even faintly smell a strong smell of blood.

When he saw the longbow, Ron even felt an inexplicable restlessness in his body, and even a strange sense of familiarity emanated from him.

This feeling made Ron's eyelids jump, and his eyes swept over the bowstring. The bowstring had a unique scent of dragons and was made of dragon tendons.

Since dragon tendons are used as bowstrings, one can imagine the quality of this longbow.

The next moment, a bright light flashed on Niafu's right hand, and a dark red spear appeared out of thin air.

Niafu directly placed the spear on the bowstring, using the spear as an arrow. Then, Niafu's slender arm suddenly exerted force, and with a creaking sound, the bowstring was almost instantly pulled into a full moon.

Immediately, his fingers loosened.

With a humming sound, the dark red spear shot out in an instant, like a meteor tearing through the sky.

With the help of the longbow and Niafu's own strength, the spear had unparalleled penetrating power. Even the hundreds of meters thick soil and the church on the surface could not stop the power of the spear and were pierced through in an instant.

…

The Kingdom of Sibang, the royal city.

At a point diagonally above the headquarters of the Church of the Heart of Nature, Patridge was panting.

The moon is bright.

The moonlight shone on Partridge's face, which was as pale as paper, without a trace of blood.

The already old face seemed to have aged even more at this time. It was wrinkled, and beads of sweat as big as beans flowed into the grooves of the face, moving slowly along the wrinkles.

His body was soaked with sweat, and the wetness stuck to his body, making Patridge feel particularly uncomfortable.

His pair of cloudy old eyes were still wide open, and from his confused and frightened look, one could clearly feel how exaggerated the shock this guy had suffered before.

Ron, that guy is a monster.

He had never encountered such a strange and terrifying existence.

That guy was so young, yet he could master the rarest and most powerful law of time. He hadn't even entered the realm of destruction. The rules of this world seemed to have no restrictions or meaning to him.

This scary guy could even directly summon a six-winged fallen angel... No, that's not right, a six-winged fallen angel is nothing, that guy even directly summoned an evil god.

Oh, damn.

Until now, the shudder that penetrated into the deepest part of his soul has not disappeared from Patridge's heart. Whenever he recalled that feeling, Patridge felt horrified.

Will be eaten.

If I continue to stay in that place, I will definitely be eaten alive by that horrible monster.

The extreme fear made him unable to even think of resisting. He fled, leaving behind hundreds of clones that he had cultivated with great difficulty as bait, and then escaped.

That's the gap between Partridge and Archibald.

If it was a blasphemer, he might not think too much and would just fight first to see if he could win. If he really couldn't win, it wouldn't be too late to run away. He would never be scared to death.

This is the gap between natures.

It is easy to change the country, but difficult to change one's nature.

Even though thousands of years had passed, and even though Patridge had become one of the most powerful men in the Dusk Continent and was revered as a sage, his nature had not changed at all.

And this nature also destined him to not only catch up with the blasphemer, even if it was ten thousand years or a hundred thousand years, let alone a thousand years, the gap between the two would only grow bigger and bigger.

But Patridge didn't think so. He even felt lucky that he could survive in front of a god.

He raised his right hand, wiped the sweat from his forehead, and soon felt distressed.

Hundreds of clones.

He has a huge number of clones, numbering in the thousands, and at his peak the number of clones exceeded ten thousand.

There is no mistake in the poem, post, content, and read the book on 6, 9, and bar!

He taught Holt the technique of clones, but Patridge was obviously not a particularly good teacher. The inheritance he left behind was incomplete and had many flaws. At the very least, when devouring the clone to absorb power, Patridge's energy loss would be much less.

Hundreds of clones represent a very powerful energy.

However, Patridge has basically reached a bottleneck period. Even if he devours more clones, his own energy storage has reached its limit and his strength cannot be further improved. But these clones are not useless. At least when the energy loss is too great, absorbing a clone will immediately become a tonic.

Moreover, some of these clones have even developed intelligence. Apart from anything else, they are also quite useful as loyal subordinates.

Patrick was quite distressed by the loss of hundreds of them at once.

However, as long as I think about the loss of hundreds of clones in exchange for a life, the pain I feel is much less.

It’s just… the right arm of the last Dusk King.

hiss.

Whenever he thought of that arm, Patridge felt so heartbroken that he couldn't breathe.

That right arm was his biggest loss tonight.

Thinking back to the beginning, how much effort did he put in to gain the trust of this arm? He bowed and scraped, like a grandson, constantly trying to please it. Even the dignity of a saint was gone.

After finally gaining the trust of the remnant soul, he finally provided Patridge with an opportunity to launch a silent sneak attack, completely annihilate the remnant soul, and personally take control of the right arm of the last Twilight King.

He had originally wanted to gather together the remains of the last Twilight King to serve as a container for his own soul in the future, so that he could use this body to break through to the realm of God.

But who would have thought that he would die before accomplishing his mission.

He tried to grab the left arm, but ended up losing his right arm.

All the money was lost.

Whenever he thought of this, Patridge felt so depressed that he wanted to vomit blood.

It’s been a thousand years… more than a thousand years, and this is the first time he has suffered such a loss.

He wanted to rush back into the underground palace and tear that bastard Ron into pieces with his own hands... But this idea was just a thought after all. Patridge would never dare to do so. He was not a man with such courage.

Shaking his head, even though his heart was bleeding, Patridge could only forcefully suppress the depression in his heart. He looked around and quickly determined his current location.

Although the relics and equipment passed down by the Andre family all have some spatial abilities, they are too random.

This time, he used a sub-forbidden spell-level space-shifting secret technique, which could theoretically allow him to randomly teleport to any distance between one meter and one thousand kilometers. As long as it was a few dozen kilometers, it should be safe enough.

As a result, he was still in the city of the Spang Cult King, above the church.

Damn it.

Is this one kilometer?

Partridge swore again under his breath.

He found that he had sworn more times today than in the previous three hundred years. You can imagine how depressed he felt.

That feeling was terrible, as if everything was against me.

Patridge exhaled heavily. He wanted to turn the ring again and use the ability of space to escape, but he finally gave up this plan. The randomness was too great. If he accidentally ended up in the underground palace, he would be courting death.

Hundreds of clones, plus a right arm, should be able to hinder them for a while. With his own strength, even if it's only a minute or even half a minute, he can escape to a relatively safe place.

Since you are going to fly, let’s go north.

That's the territory of the orcs.

It's a land of ice and snow, which is not suitable for human survival at all. It should be relatively safer to escape there.

Ron would have searched the whole world for me, but he would never have thought that I would be hiding in the glaciers of the Far North, living with the orcs.

This time, he even planned to stay there for a long time, and come back to deal with Ron after he thought of a way to deal with him. Moreover, the orcs believed in the God of Wilderness.

The God of Wilderness is also one of the seven great gods.

At the headquarters of the Church of the God of Wilderness, there should be some remains of the last Dusk King suppressed. If he could get his hands on these remains, it would make up for his losses this time.

In a few seconds, Patridge made his decision and without hesitation, he flew towards the Dulles Mountains in the north.

Patridge is indeed a master of the Realm of Destruction. His flying speed is far beyond that of ordinary practitioners. In just a moment, his body has already flew over a thousand meters.

But even Patridge didn't notice it at all.

Right below him, beneath the Cathedral of Nature's Heart, a dark red spear was moving through the soil at lightning speed.

No matter whether it was thick soil or solid rock, in front of this dark red spear, they were like tofu dregs, vulnerable to a single blow and were penetrated in an instant.

Buzz! The spear pierced through the stone paved ground.

With a spiral impact, it penetrated the temple of the Church of the Heart of Nature.

The violently spinning spear was like a raging tornado, with spiral energy raging around it, causing the temple to collapse.

The spear, like a meteor flying in reverse, streaked across the sky obliquely.

Perhaps, this is fate.

Just as the spear was flying back to a height of several hundred meters, Patrick just happened to fly to that point. It felt as if Patrick was desperately trying to get close enough to take the shot.

It's such an unbelievable coincidence.

Then……

Phew!

The dark red spear instantly penetrated into Patridge's body from below.

At that moment, Patridge felt an intense pain that he had never experienced in his life. His eyes widened instantly and his mouth opened, as if he wanted to scream. However, there was no time for him to make any sound at all. A dark red gun tip had already emerged from Patridge's mouth.

A sage like him was turned into a kebab in an instant.

This may be the most embarrassing moment in the saint’s life.

A large stain of crimson seeped through the robe, which quickly became wet, with sticky liquid slowly rolling down.

No one except Patridge can understand what this feels like. Perhaps, this will become a nightmare that Patridge will never be able to overcome in his life and become a psychological shadow.

Chapter 2 is here.

(End of this chapter)