My Boss, the White-haired Nun

He was dressed in rough clothes, and his hair was half black and half red, greasy and messy.His face was full of stubble from lack of trimming, his eyes were slightly narrowed, and his eyes were a little cloudy.His whole body was dusty, like a craftsman who had worked for a long time.

He held a hammer in his right hand, and there was something long in front of him. The man's hand was slowly and mechanically raised and lowered, colliding with the metal bar in his hand.It made a somewhat dull clanging sound.

He is forging.

Maybe this man himself should be silent, after all, just looking at him, he can feel that this man is so dull and dull, obviously plain and simple as if he has fallen into the dust, but it seems that there is another kind of temperament coming from him. It exudes from him, thick and simple, like a mountain.

Or something more stubborn.

Such as iron.

Iron hammered by the gods.

At this moment, the sky suddenly began to distort, and after reaching a certain level, the entire space shattered like a mirror, tearing a huge gap.Among those fine fragments are the sunlight from the sun above the sky, but under the fragments there is a deep nothingness that seems to suck the soul of a person into it.

Like a world collapsing.

A purple-red thunderbolt suddenly struck down from the gap, and it fell down with unquestionable power like a divine punishment from a god to the world, and the brilliant light illuminated in an instant. The whole world.It even covered the original brilliance of Great Japan!

The man raised his head calmly when the space began to distort, put down the hammer and picked up the long object, and then the object showed its original appearance.

Surprisingly and not surprisingly, it was a sword.

He raised his hand and held the sword high above his head. In the next second, God's Punishment came crashing down and hit the ground with a roar like the drums of thousands of armies.

It took more than a minute for the purple glow to dissipate.

The pits in the field got a little deeper, and there were still some fine purple-red electric currents crackling, which were high-concentration Houkai energy.The man in the field was still standing there, maintaining that posture, but the sword in his hand had been broken.

"It still doesn't work." He shook his head, and threw the broken sword in his hand on the ground. There were already a lot of broken swords on the ground, piled up on the ground, like a tomb made of scrap iron.

The man's hand was also condensed with purple-red light, and in the void, another sword with a different style from before was projected by him.

It's ironic that his authority is not complete. If it weren't for the high level of Honkai around here, he would not be able to do such a thing.

Then he swung the hammer and started striking the iron again, and the dull clang sounded again.

Originally, according to common sense, the formed sword blade would only be damaged from its internal structure under this kind of knock.But behind the man, the set that was integrated into his body five hundred years ago along with the bull ghost knife Changguang, the stigmata from that girl quietly played a role, and with the fall of the hammer, forcibly changed the The strength of the blade.

After all, inheriting that person's stigmata is equivalent to inheriting that person's life.All the weapons named after Changguang in the past five hundred years were all made by him. Not to mention surpassing Changguang himself back then, they can still be regarded as on the same level.

After all, since that girl's only dream is to carry forward the reputation of swordsmith Changguang, it is impossible for him to do anything to tarnish her reputation.

He continued to swing the hammer mechanically, beating silently.During this process, the cracked injuries on his body that looked like porcelain dropped on the ground began to heal, and he even projected a piece of clothing to wear on his body.

The beating sound continued, week after week.

He didn't even glance at the slit above his head.

In the gap above the sky that seemed to cover the sky and the sun, an equally huge face appeared faintly.

That face was pale and without any features, as if it was the product of countless faces fused into one, as if a three-dimensional facial features were drawn on a whiteboard, and even the flickering gaps were reconstructed with projections.

Without features, there is no expression, or something like emotion, not even indifference, but a fundamental emptiness.

He just lowered his head, looking down at the world.

The reason why the man didn't look at him was because he had actually seen him before. Five hundred years ago, he cut his sword at the end of the road and cut off the road by the way.Now it seems that he has recovered well.

It's just that his situation at that time was much better than it is now, and he still had various names on his head.

Because I have seen it, the man is too lazy to look at it now.

After all, that face is not good-looking.

Maybe the road was not cut clean enough.It is estimated that something like a small water pipe was left for him, but after saving it for five hundred years, it really made him tear up and make something happen.

He came too late, the people in this city were not rescued, so there would be none, and it's not like he hasn't seen dead people before, he's already past the age of talking nonsense.But since he has come here to block him, then he can't even think about doing more things.

Make up the sky, it seems that no one can do the same.

In the sky, that god was looking at this man.

He remembers this human being. After all, if anyone cuts you down, you will probably remember him for the rest of your life.

Seeing this human continue to forge iron, there was still no expression on his face.But if someone looked at him at this moment, he would feel a kind of confusion for no reason arising from the bottom of his heart, as if he should have been confused in the first place.

Or, as it were, the world itself was amazed.

He has been splitting this human being for almost three days.

How could he not die?

He thought so.

but it does not matter.

Soon, he turned his gaze away and looked at a position a little in front of the man.

There was a cocoon of light wrapped in purple light.Something is accumulating inside, and a figure can be faintly seen lying in it.

The man inside the light cocoon is ninety percent similar in shape to the man outside, the biggest difference is that the man has half red and half black hair, while the man inside the light cocoon has pure black hair. .

Even if a man is strong enough to survive God's punishment time and time again, it is impossible for him not to shed blood.

For Him, as long as there is a sample, it can be created.

I can't kill you, so I just let you kill you yourself.