That's not a game

"Come on..."

"Haiyan, you won't fall down in this kind of place."

"The poet brother will definitely succeed."

The little girl put her hands together and prayed like this.

And above that high altitude, perhaps people's prayers were really useful, the young poet suddenly spread his wings, scattered the wind element shield in front of him, and used his body to confront the wings forcefully. The fist-sized hail, like the petrel facing the storm in the poem, clearly faced the storm, but flew higher and farther!

At this moment, the people were no longer cheering, only wonder and astonishment remained in their hearts.

That boy actually flew fearlessly against such a powerful blizzard.

His flying seemed to be unstoppable even by such terrifying hailstones, he just flew unstoppably, as if nothing could stop him.

People, stare dumbfounded.

Even Dekarabian on the tower was stunned.

Because the young man looked directly at Blizzard's unyielding flying posture, it was too dazzling, so dazzling that she, the demon god, was stunned.

However, she slowly shook her head and smiled.

"Young poet, you are indeed brave enough. But... this courage is not lucky enough."

As Dekarabian's voice fell, in the storm, a huge black dragon slowly appeared from the darkness, not far from the young poet.

The black dragon glanced at the young man who was about the size of an ant with his blood-red dragon eyes. There was no movement in his eyes, but he just quietly flapped the huge dragon wings and went away.

Just as human beings don't care about ants that are accidentally trampled to death, the huge black dragon doesn't care how much disaster it will cause when it gently flaps its wings, and how many innocent creatures it will kill.

When the black dragon flapped its wings, Lin Xiaoge at the side suffered from this fish pond.

The countless hailstones, supported by the strong wind brought by the black dragon flapping its wings, hit Lin Xiaoge like meteorites.

Lin Xiaoge spread her wings reflexively, wrapping herself in them with those white wings, so as to resist the storm and hail brought by the black dragon flapping its wings.

Pong pong!

Weak pale white fluorescent lights flickered from the wings, and every time a hailstone hit, the weak fluorescent lights on the wings would tremble violently, bursting into circles of ripples.

In the distance, countless people who saw this scene grabbed their hearts again.

The boy looked so weak in such a blizzard, but they couldn't help but believe that the boy could create the impossible again!

There is no reason, because that is the same thing for granted!

People believed so firmly, but the lonely king on the high tower sighed lightly.

"Is that all? Brave poet."

As the lonely king's voice fell, there was such a white feather on the white wings that wrapped the young man. Under the violent impact of the hailstone, it suddenly lost its faint fluorescence, and slowly fell off from the wings. Falling slowly, it seemed so powerless and weak.

Down below, countless people who saw this scene widened their eyes in disbelief.

Because, after losing that feather, the faint fluorescence on the wings began to flicker unsmoothly, and at the same time trembled more and more due to the violent impact of the hailstone.

boom!

I don't know which hailstone it was, but it slammed on the faint fluorescent light on the wings, completely shattering the fluorescent light like breaking glass.

The moment the fluorescent light shattered, the hailstones mercilessly hit the unprotected white wings, knocking down the feathers on the wings one by one.

One, two, three...

In the end, there was only one left.

And this last feather was roughly and savagely smashed off by the hailstone.

The young poet who had completely lost his feathers, finally, under the gaze of countless people, together with the pieces of pure white feathers, fell slowly and feebly in the storm, like a bird that had been shot.

At this moment, everyone's hearts seemed to be dead.

The same is true for Lin Xiaoge.

"It hurts..."

He opened his eyes weakly, looking at the white bird in the sky, still flying in that unhurried manner, just passing him like that.

This made Lin Xiaoge's mouth reveal a self-deprecating smile, "Sure enough, fake feathers can't resist the real storm and fly freely after all?"

Lin Xiaoge recalled the little elf who worked hard to help him collect feathers, and the earnest appearance of the other party cheering and encouraging him, he couldn't help pursing his pale lips, "Sorry, my friend, I still failed... "

Lin Xiaoge closed her eyes and let her body fall freely.

[It is detected that the player has no chance of survival, do you want to read the archive? 】

【…】

Lin Xiaoge ignored the system's reminder, his heart is a little dead now.

He failed, failed...

He failed that little guy, his bravery was useless at all.

His strength is simply not enough.

That's it... die.

The loser does not need to live.

"poet--"

A familiar voice shone into Lin Xiaoge's world like a ray of light piercing the night.

Lin Xiaoge couldn't help opening his eyes, looking in the direction of the voice.

At that high altitude, a small figure that has no wings but has passed through countless storms, is flying towards him with all its strength, stretching out that small hand, trying to catch him who is constantly falling.

"Poet!! Didn't we say that? We want to fly together!"

Lin Xiaoge froze, and smiled wryly, "But... I don't have wings anymore."

"Then let me come!"

The little elf said so seriously.

"Then let me be your wing!"

The little elf, through countless storms, came before the young poet, and grabbed pieces of pure white feathers with his frail hands.

[Possess props - Asuka's feather? 9 and? ? , Is it synthesized into—Wings of the Wind? 】

Lin Xiaoge looked stunned, it turned out...his tenth feather was always by his side.

"Poet, I want to...fly with you."

The little elf looked longingly at the poet.

[Is it synthesized into—Wing of the Wind? 】

"Yes."

Chapter 43 Fly me high!

People watched the young poet who lost his wings and fell slowly from the sky. When the boy lost his wings and fell, their hearts seemed to die.

"He...he failed."

"poet……"

"Sigh... Sure enough, it is impossible for human beings to surpass Asuka."

"Well, even poets have failed, so what can we... what can we do?"

"Yeah, we can't do anything at all."

"Wow—impossible! Brother poet, he can't possibly fail! Wow——"

The little girl in red was crying, holding the poem paper written for her by the wind spirit in her hand, crying so heartbreakingly.

But even so, the little girl in red still looked at the young man who fell in the storm with eyes full of tears, and squeezed the poem in her hand tightly.

"Impossible, brother poet, he will definitely fly again, impossible! Brother poet, he will definitely succeed!"

No one was as convinced as the little girl that the boy could fly again, because the boy had lost both wings and the qualification to fly, and turned into a bird with broken wings, falling from the sky.

All this has become a reality.

Except for the little girl who still retained her innocent fantasy, no one thought that the young poet could fly high again.

On the high tower, Dekalabi watched this scene quietly, with a trace of pity in his eyes.

"If you took the last feather from me in a dignified manner, how could it have turned out like this? Poet."

She sighed softly, got up and was about to leave the throne, and return to the windless and icy tower again.

However, as soon as she got up together, there was a child's voice shouting with all her strength from the world outside the tower.

"Brother Poet! Fly fast! Fly high——"

Dekarabian froze, turned around, looked at the little girl in red from a distance, and saw that the other party was grasping the poetry in his hand, shouting with all his strength, as if trying to transmit his voice to the world. In the ears of the boy who fell in the storm, it seemed that he wanted to use his own voice to stop the boy from falling.

But no matter how loudly she yelled and how hard she yelled, the boy's falling figure still didn't stop at all.

Dekarabyan looked calm and said to himself, "He has already failed, no matter how he shouts, he won't hear it."

Dekarabian even felt that his people were a bit bored, because apart from the little girl, no one cheered for the boy, as if he had already surrendered.

There are so many people, but only that little girl still firmly believes, hopes, and looks forward to that boy can fly again.

"Even if the young poet paid the price with his life for flying, among so many people, is there only one young "Petrel"? My people, how can you survive the dangerous outside? ?”

The lonely king sighed and was about to return to his tower.

She wants to wait, wait for the young petrel to grow up, and then challenge her again like the poet.

But again, another voice that was completely different from that of the little girl made her stop.

"Poet—fly me high!! You are a real petrel, you are a petrel that can face the storm and go forward bravely!"

Dekarabian turned his head in astonishment, and saw in the crowd, a middle-aged man with stubble and a rather decadent appearance, with flushed cheeks, shouting with all his strength.

He who had been drinking all day long because of his failure, now pinned his youthful bravery on the young poet, hoping that the young man could fly again.

He was once defeated by reality, but young poet, you are Haiyan who can create miracles!Unlike a complete loser like him, don't be defeated by this so-called reality!

Although the hoarse shout of the decadent middle-aged man was not as clear as the little girl's childish voice, it seemed so contagious in this city full of cowardly people.

They were all losers. When they saw the tower, they dared not challenge because of their inner cowardice, so they failed, so they cowardly huddled under the protection of the lonely king, falsely worshiping the lonely king.

But now, there is a brave man who puts on his wings and challenges the sky and even the tower.

They pinned their former bravery on the young poet.

"Poets—fly up!"

Another voice sounded, it was the proprietress of the hotel.

"Poet - quickly create a miracle!!"

Immediately afterwards, another voice sounded, it was the girl who arrived at the square first every day to wait for the poet to sing.

"Poets—don't give in!!"

"Poet! You will surely succeed!"

"poet--"

"Fly high for me—"

Countless voices converged into the same voice, which seemed to have real strength, forming a gust of wind and blowing towards the fallen boy.

At this moment, a miracle happened.

Accompanied by countless voices, a pair of small hands grabbed the young poet's hands.

Sa——

Under the watchful eyes of countless people, the pure white light was conceived on the young poet.

That is the flower of the wind that is about to bloom, that is the flower that will bloom in the storm.

Its bloom, with the expectation of countless people, is unstoppable.

Its blooming brought the young man with broken wings back to life again.