AWB Chapter 617: Dark Clouds Covering Ancient Bronze
Chapter 617: Dark Clouds Covering Ancient Bronze
The last piece of black robe cloth hung above Im's head.
The wind didn't blow.
The piece of cloth floated up on its own.
An invisible force field emanated from the top of the head. The tattered cloth was pushed out, tracing an extremely slow arc, before being pried open by invisible fingers.
In the blink of an eye, the remaining pieces of cloth broke at the same time.
It was cut open.
The cuts were smooth and clean. The slits descended diagonally from a height of fifty meters. Each cut was precise to the millimeter. Thousands of black shreds of cloth exploded in mid-air. Demonic energy emanated from the bodies and was pushed outwards in unison.
A rain of pitch-black fabric scraps.
It drifted out within a radius of 100 meters. Wherever it went, the green grass flattened and instantly changed color. The green faded to withered yellow, then rotted into grayish-black. The entire meadow was completely covered in charcoal ash.
The wind stopped.
Deathly silence descended upon the battlefield.
Blue and white lightning danced across Loki's dragon scales. The lightning lost its sound. Only breathing remained in the air.
Im's breathing.
The massive chest heaved, creating a deep, oppressive airflow. This airflow pressed down relentlessly on the ground, making one's sternum ache. The entire Elbaf sky seemed to follow suit.
The rags fell to the ground.
Everyone's eyes were fixed on something a hundred meters away.
Loki gripped Ironhide tightly with his left hand.
Didn't move.
His dark red eyes narrowed. He gazed across the black rain at the other side.
A man's body.
A near-perfect man.
Im's muscles were taut and defined. Every inch exuded a sense of pressure. Broad shoulders. A sharply defined chest. His waist and abdomen were extremely tight. The muscles were as if each one had been carved out with a knife.
Bronze skin.
The color of quenching extracted from an ancient furnace.
Dark clouds pressed down. Shadows were cast upon her bronze skin, gleaming with a cold metallic sheen. She was no longer made of flesh and blood.
This is a statue that breathes.
Forged in an ancient furnace. Cast by the hands of the gods.
Which face?
So handsome it's unbelievable.
His features were sculpted by a sharp blade. High cheekbones. A straight nose. Thin, tightly pressed lips. A sharply defined jawline. A mortal's gaze would be cut and bleed upon looking at him.
Handsome looks stripped of approachability.
Extremely alienated.
Extremely indifferent.
Ancient gods look down upon the lifeless desolation of ants. The carving remains there. Unchanged for eight hundred years.
Loki's Adam's apple bobbed.
He almost lost his composure.
He had heard all the legends of Im. His father Harald's secret files. The taboos of the Elbaf court. Fragments of intelligence gathered from all corners of the world.
Every single one of them says that Im is thin and frail.
Hidden deep within the world government. A withered old ghost who maintains his authority through the shadows.
"Hold."
Loki squeezed out words from between his teeth.
He cursed in a low voice, revealing his true anger.
"Those bastards from the World Government, they really know how to keep the news under wraps."
The iron thunderbolt was pressed tightly against his ear. Round eyes stared at the opposite side. A cowlick twitched. A low growl escaped its throat. The voice wasn't angry; it was full of confusion. It couldn't tell who this thing was.
The ruins surrounding the royal palace.
An Elbaf veteran slumped down.
The most composed veteran on the battlefield. Numerous wounds. He's seen more dead than alive. Now his legs are weak. His knees are slamming into rubble. He clings desperately to a broken stone pillar, his hands trembling so badly he can barely hold on.
"where"
His lips trembled.
"What is that thing?"
The young soldier on the left stared wide-eyed, his throat gurgling. The one-eyed giant on the right stared intently, blood seeping from his eye socket. None of the gods he had ever worshipped in his life looked like this.
The warriors of Elbaf have seen God.
God is etched in their blood.
They couldn't recognize what was in front of them.
It belongs to no epic. It belongs to no mural. It belongs to no world.
Loki looked up.
Keep an eye on the two corners.
Two.
pitch black.
Bend backward.
Its horns are as thick as an adult's wrist, tapering towards the back. They are over two meters long, extending from the sides of its head in a symmetrical, curved shape. A natural crown.
The corners are pitch black. Completely devoured. Light falling upon them is instantly swallowed. No reflection.
The pitch-black surface is covered with patterns.
Fine and dense. So dense it makes your scalp tingle.
The sharp blade repeatedly carved into the extremely hard material. The depth was consistent. The spacing was precise. There were no rough marks. The sculptor used an entire era.
Loki's pupils contracted sharply.
He recognized him.
I've seen it on Kaido.
The dragon horns also have ancient patterns. Compared to Im's two horns, Kaido is too young and too clean.
The Im's Twin Horns. Extremely ancient. Extremely primitive. Born in the chaotic era before the world was formed. Inscribed upon them are lost artifacts. Even ancient scrolls dared not record them.
Im breathes.
A dark red glow emanated from the base of the long horn.
The light and color perfectly matched her dark red eyes.
Loki lowered his gaze.
Keep an eye on what's behind you.
Dark clouds.
Thick, black clouds of mist clung tightly to the back of the mountain, five meters behind it. They hadn't dispersed.
The energy field radiates outward.
The dark cloud crawled inward.
Tumbling. Twisting.
A living thing. Clinging tightly to the back. Silently rising and falling. The rise and fall are completely irregular. The wriggling has its own independent rhythm. It has will. It is thinking.
next second.
The dark clouds opened their eyes.
Dozens of pairs. Densely packed.
The largest pair of pupils is as big as a human head, located directly behind the shoulder blades. The smallest pairs are about the size of a fist, scattered along the edges.
The colors are mixed up.
Dark red. As red as congealed blood. So alluring it makes one's stomach churn.
Pitch black. The abyss opened its eyes. Its pupils merged into the black clouds.
Gold. Repulsive, rotten gold.
Purple.
Emerald green.
Open your eyes at the same time.
The temperature above the battlefield plummeted by ten degrees.
Loki's right arm was covered in dragon scales. Bloodstains had frozen into dark red frost. He didn't pay attention. He didn't have time to pay attention.
He stared intently.
Everyone's doing their own thing. There's no unified focus.
The largest, dark red pupils locked onto Loki and Ironhide. Pupils contracted. Dark eyes swept across the scattered warriors. Golden eyes tilted upwards, looking towards the golden light in the high-altitude clouds. In Chen Ye's direction.
The other pairs of eyes each had their own focus. One was fixed on the white-bearded man in the ruins. The other on Rocks heading towards Garin Saint. The third on Nami, facing off at the edge.
A battlefield stretching for kilometers. Every single detail. All swallowed up by the eyes.
Tie Lei's palm trembled violently again.
Facing the golden eyes high in the sky.
The tuft of hair stood on end. It was forcibly flattened.
I didn't make a sound. I held it in as if I were screaming.
Im breathes.
The contours of the body rise and fall. The chest rises. The chest falls.
With each rise and fall, the dark clouds throbbed. All eyes blinked in unison.
The unique harmony of living things.
Loki's gaze fell on what was behind her.
A tail. Fifteen meters long.
A tailbone emerges, wrapping around the outside of the right leg. Hanging down, covered in bronze-colored scales arranged like intricate armor.
The scales are not to be trifled with.
Black demonic energy flowed from the cracks. The demonic energy was like blood. It circulated within the coccyx, permeating every inch of the scales.
Tail tip.
Bizarre form.
A scorpion hook.
The hook blade is sharp, gleaming with an extremely cold silver light. Its curve is precise. A deadly weapon, meticulously honed over time.
A brief moment of deathly silence. A slight flick of the tail.
Just once.
The air whistled sharply. The sound was piercing, drilling deep into Loki's ears.
Loki observed in silence.
He remained silent. He was calculating in his mind. Every detail was marked with a deathly gray.
Eyes. Not merely decorative. Independent observation. Independent offense and defense. Unwavering focus.
Dark clouds. A creeping motion stripping away energy. A living creature. A radius of five meters. The entire five-meter area is its meal. Staring intently.
Tail. Fifteen meters. A sweeping motion of fifty meters. The speed of the swing surpasses the reaction limit of a giant. A fixed gaze.
Two horns. Ancient. Primitive. Origin unknown. Let's not touch it yet.
The face. Least likely to be a source of danger. Most lethal.
A bronze body. Pure physical strength. Absolutely crushing Kaido.
Loki finished thinking about it.
Facial expression tense. Breathing rate stable.
The iron-clad beast pressed its palm against his calm pulse. The tuft of hair flattened. It straightened again. Standing upright in his palm. No longer trembling. If its master went to war again, it would fight alongside him.
100 meters away.
Im didn't move.
A massive, bronze body stood motionless. The rain of tattered cloth had stopped. A deathly silence enveloped it.
At the top of the head, a dark red glow suddenly surged.
Dark clouds loomed behind him. Every pair of eyes turned to Loki within seconds.
The largest pupil is a dark red. The pupil is jet black. The outer edges are golden-purple and emerald green.
They all rotate together.
Dark clouds surged with silent waves. All shapes and colors of pupils locked onto each other in the same instant.
Pupil constriction.
The same image is displayed.
The dragon-transformed prince of Elbaf. He cradled a brown squirrel in his palm.
That expression.
The posture of a deity looking at prey, stripped bare.
A group of hungry ghosts who had been trapped for eight hundred years. A plate was placed in front of them.
Tie Lei's palm trembled again.
Extremely light. Fear was suppressed.
Eyes wide open. Gazing at the dark sea of eyes opposite. A familiar feeling welled up from the depths of antiquity.
I can't recall anything. Only familiarity.
It burrowed into Loki's furry spine. The base of its tuft of hair was burning hot. Its little paws dug into the flesh of Loki's palm.
Loki didn't look at his palm.
I don't have time to get distracted.
Iron Thunder was gripped even tighter. His left hand retracted to his chest. His right hand raised the warhammer. His ahoge (cowlick) form was no longer present. The weapon's spirit runes shone brightly. Dark silver ancient runes flowed along the hammer's shaft.
He grinned. His canine teeth were stained with blood.
A very low sound struck the palm.
"What's there to be afraid of?"
"We two, father and son, have never been afraid of anyone."
Tie Lei's ahoge (cowlick) stood straight.
He didn't make a sound.
The little head pressed firmly against the base of Loki's thumb. This was a response.
Several thousand meters in the air.
Chen Ye stood on the back of the divine eagle. His golden eyes narrowed.
Focus on the scorpion's tail. Two horns. A thousand-eyed black cloud.
His fingers gripped the sword hilt. He forcibly crushed her to death.
"Not human."
He spoke in a low voice. The sound was carried away by the air currents above.
"It's not just God."
The divine eagle, Vidvernir, emitted a suppressed, low growl. Its massive wings tucked slightly. Its enormous body hovered motionless. The ancient creature's instincts screamed alarm bells. What lay below was more repulsive than Nighold. It should never have existed.
Chen Ye's gaze swept over Hei Yun's eyes.
Red. Black. Gold. Purple. Green.
They come in various shapes. They come in various colors. They rotate in different directions.
His brows were furrowed so deeply they formed a deep frown.
An absurd guess stuck in his throat. He raised his hand. A silent press was made on the hilt of his sword.
Loki.
Speak softly.
Hang in there.
below.
A standoff of 100 meters.
His massive, bronze body remained rooted to the spot. A dark red glow emanated from the base of his horn, blindingly bright. All the eyes behind him were fixed on Loki.
His thin lips moved slightly.
Make a sound. Do something.
next second.
The temperature plummeted suddenly over the battlefield. Without warning. It sank another inch lower.