My Heroic Life

"The second stage, come."

In the sound of the command, the Seed of Courage began to bloom across the boundaries of time and space, and the screaming Hestaya began to grow and replenish the soul of the youth in front of him. On the other side, in the ruins of the hot spring hall, the soul of the artificial human began to shrink and shrink.

The magic beam of holy white pierced through the Palace of Eleudenil and rose up. In the dazzling light, Hestaya seemed to see the chief judge of the court that had been seen decades ago, that was the embodiment of terror. And now that he has broken through the restrictions, he has undoubtedly been here in person.

"You are not dead! Why! Why did I meet you!"

Hestaja, who had extinguished the flames on her body, burned her right arm and smoked and became even more ugly. Fear pressed her nerves and made her go crazy. On the other side, Roland, whose hand was covering her forehead, was murderous, and he stared at Hesta. Yadao:

"Yeah, I'm also wondering why I always bump into you damn bugs, why are you always in your shadows?"

He seemed puzzled to ask Hestaya, and he seemed to be talking to himself.

"From the outside to the inside, it is filthy, ugly, and disgusting. It is obviously a bug. I dare to destroy what I like. Is there a greater sin than this?"

He looked up at Hestaya whose face was distorted with fear, and whispered the sentence that had been in the past decades.

"Damn you."

Herstaya's eyes widened, and she understood her situation in trembling.

Yes, this is him. He is just like his nickname in the past. He is completely a tyrant, unable to communicate, unable to beg for mercy, and surrendering is meaningless. The only way is to make a way out!

Suddenly, the fear in the half-human and half-ghost old woman's heart turned into infinite ferocity. At this moment, Hestaya remembered her frightening frightening name, and used her last strength and will to struggle with all her strength.

"Want to kill me! Then you go to die first!"

She yelled at the young man, and the roar suddenly changed. The countless ghosts of the entire island were swept back by the wind at the same time. The souls of the zombies left their bodies and came towards the place where Hestia was, Eleudenir Palace. The palace attire that she spent many years of hard work to create was destroyed by her hands and turned into a steady stream of magic power into her body.

She opened her beast-like mouth and swallowed the endless soul in the sky, and the whole body began to swell rapidly, and the blood of Hela was ignited all over her body under the excitation of her full strength. She completely assimilated her body with the blood of God. Become a monster that has never been recorded in mythology.

The explosively inflated body topped the falling ceiling, and the powerful bloodline of the giants made her taller than the house. At this moment, her twisted face was half a young woman and half a hideous ghost face. The bone sickle in Hestaya's hand was this. Time is like a giant tree, even the usual terrifying ghost is like a baby compared to her.

"The ghost is gone, and the zombie doesn't move anymore, what's the matter?"

"Sister, look over there!"

"That is! Giant!"

Near the distant coast, the sailors on the Golden Deer pointed to the island and screamed, and at the same moment, Hestaya was experiencing her unprecedented strength.

"Hahaha, hahahaha, want me to die? Try it!"

The priest who broke out and surpassed the limit screamed frantically. The terrifying enemy was as small as an ant in her eyes. The soaring strength gave her a glimmer of hope and gave her the courage to wield the sickle again.

"Fifty years have passed, and we are no longer who we were! We who have received the blood of God are the gods of the new world, and you are just the remnants of the old age!"

"Now, you will die with the saint like your old woman!"

Herstia roared out an endless fog of death, and the huge sickle took her full strength to tear the space straight down, and under the huge shadow of the bone sickle, the young man with long black hair clenched his fists.

"Indeed, I am a legacy of the old age, but..."

"The bugs have become stronger, but it doesn't mean that I have become weaker."

He raised his head and punched out the powerful force that vibrated and roared. From then on, the vast etheric sea seemed to have found a catharsis. Under the control of the power of courage, they went upstream, and the white light followed the twisted trajectory in the air. Ascending again and again, the horrified face of the half-human and half-ghost giant Hestaya was illuminated.

An aurora exploded at the center of the densely foggy black island, and the strong shock wave spread in a ring shape. Under the brilliance, the sea was turbulent.

Chapter Fifty Nine

In the powerful light and impact that illuminates half of the island, most of the half-human and half-ghost giant Hestaya's body is completely turned into fly ash, and the remaining part is torn apart and scattered on the black ground. The light is gradually extinguished. Only half of the huge head remained in the ruins of the Ludenier Palace.

"No, it's impossible, why!"

"It's nothing, you deserve to die."

"You, you will all die in the end, don't you know, he's back, ha ha ha ha ha."

Hestia looked at the man in front of her, only half of her head laughed, spitting out insane words which seemed to Roland to be unclear. The young man gave her a faint look and then turned and walked towards the back, laughing wildly. Herstaya's voice suddenly stopped, her eyes straightened, and then her body quickly rotted to ashes.

Roland walked straight ahead on the palace filled with dense fog, and walked to the crystal body that was undamaged under the powerful impact. He looked at the figure in the crystal body and stretched out his hands to snap his fingers.

The crystal clear crystals dissipated in the sound of the fingers, and what fell on the ground was an old woman with withered hair and wrinkled face.

That is Joan of Arc.

Roland looked at Joan, who was still stroking the hilt of the sword with heartache, and at the same time, the blond old woman opened her eyes, her already cloudy blue eyes looked around blankly, and then slowly focused.

"Enemy, enemy..."

"Don't worry, Hestaya is dead."

Roland whispered to the old Joan. Joan was relieved after hearing the words. The death of the enemy made her feel a little relieved. She lowered her eyes and focused on her current arms and legs.

It was not the white and slender arms and legs with power far beyond ordinary heroic spirits in memory, but the old and thin, withered body, full of wrinkles like dead branches.

Because of the shrinkage of her body, the armor of the girl's body was almost unable to hang on the broken body at this time. Seeing her body now looks like Joan's wide and cloudy eyes, she finally recalled the nightmare before the coma.

"Jan of Arc, you first..."

"Don't, don't look!"

The girl’s shout interrupted Roland. The aging Jeanne trembles and stretched out her hands to cover her face. Then she knelt on the ground and lowered her head to hug her body, seeing her series of movements and Roland frowned in response, realizing that something was in trouble.

"Jane, Jeanne, please calm down..."

"Please, don't look at me."

"..."

The girl’s almost pleading voice left Roland speechless for a while. He looked at Joan on his knees and hugged him. He understood his carelessness. The girl’s perseverance made him underestimate the impact of this incident on her. He is paying for his negligence.

Roland watched Joan thinking about how to appease, while on the other side, Joan's heart was filled with fear and despair.

In fact, Roland’s idea is not wrong. The perseverance and unshakable faith in the saint’s heart are far beyond ordinary people. If Joan of Arc had been cursed for aging in the battle with the enemy before meeting Roland, I am afraid the saint would be killing. After the enemy, they walked in front of the people with great vigor, and used their aging body to take the lead to boost morale.

But this changed after meeting Roland. In fact, what Joan was afraid of at this time was not the aging body, but the appearance that Roland saw.

Although Joan of Arc has never been proud of her physical beauty, it is undeniable that she does have an almost perfect appearance. Her beauty does not lose to any celebrity, and her temperament like a Valkyrie on the battlefield is far from it Comparable to ordinary people.

For every girl, beauty is a kind of capital, especially for Joan, who has already begun to have a figure in her heart, appearance is an item that she pays more and more attention to.

But now?

Looking at her wrinkled and dark-spotted body, Joan's eyes gradually blurred, and the despair and pain in her heart were almost unbearable.

Is there anything more cruel in the world than becoming old and ugly in front of your sweetheart?