"【For example, justice. For example, love.】"
"Ding!" Another sound.
Shen Ming'an held the sword in one hand, pressed the blade down, and stabbed Su Ming'an in the face.
Su Mingan held the sword in both hands, with the blade raised horizontally, blocking his forehead.
The two swords crossed into a cross, emitting a fierce golden light, and the eyes of both sides met directly.
The "he" who has seen a lot and the "he" who still has passion in his heart are looking at each other from a short distance.
Through the long years, one question after another falls.
"[These brief words are endowed with magical power. As soon as they are spoken, they evoke solemn and vague images in people's minds.]"
"clang--!"
“【As soon as it was said, it seemed to conquer everyone’s free will, making them willing to uphold the meaning of these words.】”
"clang--!"
"【But you know, Su Mingan, some words don't come from your thinking.】"
“Ding—ding—ding!”
The swords clashed and the wind made a loud noise.
One sword after another, although there was no pattern, the swords were extremely fast. The golden red light continued to emerge, rubbing against each other and producing wisps of sparks.
Su Ming'an had never had such an experience of fighting with a sword. Usually, either he defeated the opponent in seconds or the opponent defeated him in seconds. Energy waves bombarded back and forth, but this was the first time he had a serious sword duel.
Shenming An only used the sword, without using any other abilities, as if to say - [This is a simple sword fight between us].
As long as Su Ming'an does not use other abilities, Shen Ming'an will not use other abilities either. He will only use the simplest and most rustic swords to fight, like the knights' duel in ancient Europe.
Simple, ancient and solemn.
"Dang-dang-dang-" the sound of swords colliding and sparks flying.
Every time they clashed swords, Su Mingan could feel the tremendous power of the opponent's sword, which was like a mountain pressing down on his head.
Shen Ming'an's power was too high. Su Ming'an's knuckles bled and his sword-holding hand began to tremble. If he had known this, he should have learned some close combat techniques from Lu Shu. But on second thought, he really didn't have time.
He has very little time for himself.
Too little.
"[You only elevate short words into mysterious 'ideals', 'will', and 'anchors' because you are 'forced' or 'looking for your own roots'. You have acquired this extremely simplified way of thinking and imagination in order to numb your desire to survive.]"
"clang--!"
The golden sword tip fell, and blood spurted out of Su Ming'an's left shoulder. At the same time, he also slashed Shen Ming'an's right shoulder with a sword.
There was no divine defense, as the crimson and golden blood dripped onto the ground in distinct paths without mixing with each other.
Due to excessive blood loss, Su Mingan's mind was fuzzy, and he began to subconsciously think about random things. He thought of the many powerful characters in the anime he watched in high school, who would explode before a battle, suddenly realize a unique swordsmanship move, and explode their small universe to kill the enemy. He also thought of some martial arts TV series that Ms. Lin had watched, in which powerful swordsmen would talk to their swords, and pay attention to the connection between sword souls. He also thought of the fairy tales that Yueyue liked, in which the magic sword would be hosted by an old grandfather, who was often a great immortal who would help the owner win one victory after another...
But he didn't, and couldn't do it.
There is no microcosm, no sword spirit, and no portable grandfather.
He only has himself.
"【Ideals are just forms, tools, and concepts. Satisfying one's own desires and needs is the fundamental thing. In the end, our essence is just a few brain waves. Even our limbs and torso can be called 'tools' or 'external objects' to satisfy our own thoughts. The so-called ideals and honors are just flowers framed outside of tools, in order to satisfy one's desire to 'successfully save' and 'live up to people's expectations'.】"
“Shua——”
The sword slid down along the wound, and no one let go of the sword first.
Golden and red liquids flowed on their left and right shoulders at the same time. As the tips of their swords slid down, the wounds on their shoulders grew bigger and bigger, and the gaps flew rapidly downward along the epidermis, blood vessels, bones...
"【If you rely too much on concepts that have been repeatedly solidified and deepened in your mind, your ideals will eventually slide into obsession. Therefore, you have the idea that 'as long as I can save Zhai Xing, I will do anything, even death.' Its significance has surpassed everything else, and it has even become a tool to support your survival. In this extreme reversal of priorities, you regard all your other reasonable desires and needs as 'useless', which is an extremely dangerous manifestation.】"
"clang--!"
The sword blade cut through the flesh, and Su Ming'an's left arm and Shen Ming'an's right arm fell to the ground at the same time.
Su Ming'an seemed to feel no pain. Regardless of the loss of his arm, he gripped the hilt of the sword with his right hand and thrust forward, fighting with all his might.
He pushed the ground with his heels with great force, and the crystal floor beneath his feet shattered, forming spider-web-like cracks.
Click, click, click, click——
He couldn't tell whether it was the sound of the ground cracking or the sound of his bones cracking.
Shen Ming'an immediately changed his hands, holding the sword in his left hand, and slashed with all his strength, meeting Su Ming'an's decisive attack with all his strength.
“[This will lead to… when you lose the object that the concept refers to, you will completely lose yourself.]”
"Su Mingan."
"——Are you Su Ming'an, or 'Su Ming'an who is willing to save Zhai Xing at all costs', or 'Su Ming'an who is willing to accept his own death, and even feels satisfied with it, and finally closes his eyes peacefully'?"
…
"clang----!"
The blade flew out of his hand.
Su Ming'an's left arm was empty, and his right hand still maintained the posture of holding the sword forward. The shape of his palm was distorted and all the bones in his hand were bent.
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