My Heroic Life

Roland stared at the old man, with unforgettable hatred and disgust in his eyes.

"Fifty years have passed, and I will not repeat the same mistakes. The moment your killing hand reaches out to my beloved, your death knell has sounded!"

The young man's hand shone with red light, and a drop of liquid just floated in his palm.

"The time for trial has come, Walklord!"

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py: "SCP Foundation Survival Handbook"

scp theme, you can see if you like Cthulhu

Chapter 202 The Final Flame

Rolled, completely crushed.

It is not a competition in power, not the humanity and mystery that have been pursued for a long time, but the wisdom and strategy.

"Human weapons have never been limited to brute force. You who have obtained the ultimate strength have ignored its meaning."

In Roland's faint announcement, Walklord's tree-like skin showed a frightened expression, but this was so weak. He saw the blood of the god in the young man's hand, and he seemed to roar like self-comfort.

"Even so, do you think that kind of thing can defeat me? When I lose my immortality, you will also lose!"

Walklord raised his head to look at the little broken rotating crown. When the crown collapsed completely, the two people's inability to be killed by each other would disappear.

"You are indeed very smart, but your plan is only to make me and you stand in a position of fighting for life, then as long as you kill you next, I can win, and nothing will change!"

"Haha, it is true. In your opinion, this kind of thing is only the crown of god, part of your source of power. Although it has the attribute of special attack on the world tree, it is still difficult to fight against you at the level of power. What's more, now that the connection is disconnected, do you think I can't control it?"

Roland tightened his fist and held the light, the expression on his face was full of confidence, unlike the words, there was no panic. Lockward saw a bad feeling in his heart.

"I said it, this is a closed circle, everything is planned."

"what?"

"Do you think the fragments of the seat of humanity can be driven by ordinary souls?"

The old man was stunned when he heard the words. He had never thought about this problem. The erosion in the past only reached the outer crown of the sky, and could not penetrate the level of Roland's soul.

At the periphery of the Demon Realm, the Flower Magician looked up at the canopy and admired Walklord's expression, and couldn't help talking to himself.

"There must be a solid foundation under the towering towers. Too many people in this world only pay attention to the vanity and gorgeous decoration but ignore the walls that carry everything. Both you and Frederick pay too much attention to power and humanity. Fragment, but you don't know it, he is a peculiar point in itself."

Merlin looked at his best friend. That man is a guy who can drive the power of humanity with only a fraction of his soul. How could he be ordinary?

"The stronger the larger the soul, the easier it is to get lost. It has a concept that is in line with human beings and understands the weak and the empathy. That can be described as a great person. Do you think that humanity has chosen him? No..."

Mei Lin looked at the beating flames in the distance and said with a chuckle:

"It's him who chose humanity."

Above the tree canopy, Walklord looked at the youth wrapped in flames in disbelief.

"The fragments of the seat of humanity can only be given to the heroic spirits. This in itself shows that the exertion of power must be based on the soul. In reverse, the strength of the soul can also increase the power of the power obtained, and my soul is to send Go to the combustion aid in the underworld, Walklord."

A hideous smile appeared on his face, Roland's body was floating in the air, after the blood of the gods merged into his body, layers of flames rushed out like a torrent, and Volkrod's body trembled. It was the fear of the flame from the root of the soul.

"You madman! madman!"

The monsters in the world tree made strange noises that shook the world, and the old man also roared frantically.

"You don't even want the soul, why on earth did you do this? Even if you destroy me, what can you get?"

"...Do you want to know the reason?"

Roland's face was calm in the fierce flames, and a lot of things poured out of his mind at this moment.

During the Lost Christmas, the severely wounded saw death as home, the pain and regret of the survivors, the people who clenched their hands in prayer during the decisive battle, and the soldiers who wielded their swords.

The sound of blood flowing and falling to the ground echoed in the ears, and the smell of blood mixed with thick smoke filled the tip of the nose, and the silhouettes of beloved ones slid in front of them one by one, like the source of firewood.

"It's very simple, I may not get anything by killing you, but I will lose a lot if I don't kill you."

In the pain of burning his internal organs, Roland looked down, gaze across the high sky, through the broken black firmament of Heim's underworld, and looked up at Jeanne and Marda, who were yelling loudly, for a moment, before revealing A relieved smile.

On the British coast in the distance, Morgan Lefei, who was killing monsters in batches, felt a pain in her heart. She frowned and looked south. Altria, galloping in the sky, took the reins and stretched out her hand to caress her heart.

Roland turned his head, as if letting go of nostalgia, his eyes were firmly shot directly at the sky.

It's over.

The shattering sound of the rotating crown resounded across the sky, and Walklord had disappeared, leaving only the crazy cry of the fleshy monster in the tree hole. Almost all the soldiers and monsters fighting under the demon realm stopped their hands, and both sides watched together. To the sky and the tree canopy.

The flaming giant stood up from the crown of the tree, and red lotus-like fires scattered around him in the void, burning all the branches and leaves nearby, and he stretched out his hand to the sky, as if a king ordered his broken crown.

In the next moment, the crystal fragments floating on the top of the sky, such as swallows, came home, and amid the sound of metal collision, a long sword shaped like a crystal was formed in the hands of a giant, and the flame burned along the blade, and when it reached the top, it released victory. After the sun's rays and scorching heat, at the same moment, an ugly monster crawled out of the world tree, and it poured out its blood-colored light toward the giant.

"The time has come to return to hell, Walklord!"

"Go to death by yourself, go to death!"

In the bloody light, Roland swung down the long sword.

It was a flash that illuminates the sky and the earth. The red and white light pierced everyone's eyes. The sky a hundred miles around showed the color of the apocalyptic dusk, and the dancing flames stretched across the world tree.

The long sword of flame split the blood-colored torrent to divide the monster into two, and the aftermath rushed straight into the tree like a line of fire. After a few seconds of silence, the tree like a pillar of sky—the demon in everyone’s eyes collapsed. Exhausted flames exploded and spewed out of the World Tree, and the sound and roar of burning resounded throughout the world.

Thick smoke and flames obscured the giant's figure. Within the Demon Realm, the monsters who witnessed the destruction of the World Tree fled in all directions, and the surviving soldiers looked up.

Bell, who didn’t know the situation, was holding a long sword that was scorched black. The Templars who had already known the plan bowed silently in the direction of the giant tree. Drake, who had guessed something, couldn’t accept it with tears, love Demon witnessed the dusk-colored sky with respect.

Beowulf showed a serious look in that direction, Ziegfei clenched his fists in silence, and the soldiers cheered and roared from everywhere. Waves of sound seemed to shake the trees all over the floor. In the floating corpse, they laughed with tears. No matter how many things were lost, everything had meaning at this moment. The desperate disaster was finally strangled. Although hope was late, it finally arrived.

"Ahem, Roland, you bastard, dare to lie to me, bastard, bastard..."

In the underworld of Heim, the seriously injured Joan couldn't accept everything she saw. She coughed up blood in her mouth and fell into a coma. Malda, who was still crying and tranced, finally recovered. She held Joan tightly and struggled to stand up, crying bitterly. .

"Tsk, that guy, really picked a protagonist's way of living."

The seriously injured Andersen was supported by the soldiers. He looked at the flames above the tree that could no longer be seen, and suddenly thought of the bit by bit that had been with him.

"Goodbye, poisonous bastard."

He muttered to himself, blinking his eyes hard while showing an ugly smile.

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