Just when the Sword Saint's Sword shines brightly.

In the former Ulan Empire, in the vast rear of the last battlefield between the undead and the living, there was an empty plain.

The wind whistled through the mountains and forests, withered yellow leaves and gravel dripping across the dry ground, a long-decaying flag was inserted into the ground, roaring with the wind, and an old man rode his thin war horse standing in front of the flag.

The old knight was wearing an old armor that seemed to be broken copper and iron. The leather between the armor and the armor seemed to have rotted, leaving only a thin layer of tendons connected, as if it had just been dug out of the grave. But even so, the old man's back stood up like a straight pine wood, and the old horse's standing posture was as steady as a statue. Even if the earth trembled and thunder exploded in the sky, it could not shake it at all.

At this time, in the sky, the sun was extinguished, all the light disappeared, and the dead ice and cold spread throughout the world.

The old knight was not moved. He just watched all this quietly, watching the wind and clouds surging, the sun and the moon dim, and the gray pupils were filled with memories.

The cold wind was like a line, rolling across the plain, and he seemed to have seen it. Before the long time, a warm wind blew across the land, making the lush grass undulate like waves. While cattle and sheep bowed their heads and ate the leaves of grass, a sheep-herding child followed the saint and listened to her teachings.

But everything was gone. The old knight came to his senses, and all the illusions of the past disappeared, the saint was blurred, and his face seemed to have broken like glass with a smile. The warmth of the past has dissipated, and now only the power of the dead shadow and the silence flows between heaven and earth.

And he is one of them.

The old knight suddenly raised his head thoughtfully and looked at the other end of the continent. There was a golden sword light across the sky, shattering the clouds and the starry sky together. The mountains were soaring, the earth fell, and countless dead shadows were destroyed in the sword light, turning into non-existent nothingness. His subordinates, the third-ranked powerful swordsman, also destroyed in the ashes of this attack.

“Arain Astoria.”

He nodded slightly on the horse's back and praised with some emotion: "What a dazzling sword light, it is worthy of being the strongest sword saint ever in the world of Grandia."

It is indeed well-deserved.

But the old knight did not continue to pay attention. When he came to his senses, he turned to look forward, at the end of the plain.

There, a red dark light was walking on the earth, in the center of the dark red light. The man came all the way and swept across the dead thousands of miles. Millions of troops wanted to intercept him, but all returned without success and were defeated head-on by the strongest force.

That was exactly the goal he had been waiting for. He had been waiting for a thousand years.

The thin war horse neighed gently, as if expecting it. For some reason, the old knight was in a daze for another moment.

Time goes back, and back to a scene a thousand years ago, the sage holding a scepter stood in the center of the plain, with a somewhat illusory figure looking at this new and prosperous world, and countless people living in it, with a calm face, but with a trace of determination that would never change the decision.

"Cynthia, giving hope first and then destroying hope is more hurtful than giving despair from the beginning."

The sage said softly to the saint who was half kneeling behind him, unable to hear any emotion in his tone. I don’t know if it was a reproach or a reminder: “Are you ready to take on everything?”

The elf with Fanxing as his surname nodded firmly and responded in a slightly hoarse voice: "Yes, teacher, I'm ready for everything."

The saint slowly turned around, looked at the shepherd child who was secretly observing here in the distance, and said with a smile: "I have chosen my student."

"He will definitely fulfill my wish."

The long wind blows the flowing clouds.

The shrill sound of the wind echoed above the wasteland, as if the world was crying.

The old knight was speechless, and scene after scene flashed before his eyes. Now the shepherd child was taught by the saint on the grassland. He learned the most extraordinary martial arts and knowledge in the world, and then, decades later, unified the descendants of the 103,000 ancestors in the world, created the initial and largest empire in the world, and established great achievements that ordinary people could not imagine.

Then the founding emperor of the Central Empire, the hero of the hero, watched his teacher die in front of him.

"Akhar, don't be sad, I am just one with this world and will be with you forever from now on."

Lying on the bed, the beautiful young elf still stretched out his hand to caress the face of his students, and then turned into starlight in the sky little by little, integrating with the world. The expressionless middle-aged man could only grasp the empty bedding below it with force, and even the blood vessels had been burst by him, he did not release it for a moment.

Only the last voice of the saint echoed in his ears.

"Don't forget your mission, please let everyone be saved."

"I haven't forgotten."

Thousands of years later, the founding emperor of the Central Empire, who recovered from death, Akhar Akyev whispered to himself: "But disappointed you, teacher, not everyone can get redemption."

Cowardly people may not always be cowardly, but brave people may not always be brave. Old knights can make their knights and army fearless of death, but cannot allow this spirit to be passed on forever. There will always be escape and betrayal in this world. Even a huge empire, which seems to be immortal, will be overturned in one conspiracy and betrayal after another.

The old founding emperor did not lose to aging and time, but was killed by a glass of poisonous wine served by a maid. The old knight didn't care which of his son was eager to take the throne, but he was indeed disappointed.

Even the closest relatives cannot trust them, so what else is worth believing in this world? Even descendants will be betray them, so what beliefs can be held in the world?

Until a thousand years later, when the old knight was awakened by the Ulan Empire with the power of his country, his heart was still full of disappointment. Therefore, with his already prepared preparations, he activated the last steps left by the sage without hesitation, causing the world to fall into the end of the world.

Until now, this concept has changed a little.

In the distance, the four holy cities, the last humans, under their leadership, fought with the endless army of undead with supreme courage and will. The old man incarnated machine and the spellcaster who controlled the crystal were chasing in the air. Huge vines wrapped around the summoned ice bone dragon, the dwarf warriors fought with the invisible and traced fog humanoids in the middle of the battlefield, and the giant held the sword and blocked the arrows shot by the archer who already had a physical body.

At this last moment of life and death, on the eve of the destruction of the world, the stubborn and insulting hearts of people were finally beaten by a hammer called despair, and it shone with a light that was enough to make people admire.

Look, teacher, this is the light you are looking forward to. Even the descendants of the betrayer will one day have such courage and determination.

But all this has nothing to do with the old knight. Akhar looked down and looked at the end of the plain, where a warrior was stroking.

This is a black-haired and red-eyed warrior. He held a dragon hunting spear. The rocks and dust seemed to have lost their gravity around him. The steel power that shaped this world trembled because of the warrior's will, making a long and heroic horn sound.

Countless undeads were chasing behind him, but they were unable to break through a layer of invisible barrier and approach his body.

"I have been waiting for you, the successor of the sages."

He laughed loudly, and the old knight pulled up the flag from the ground. Now it seems that it is not a flag, but a long cavalry rifle. The blade of the gun was pulled out of the mud and sand. The broken flag rolled up and wrapped around the tail of the cavalry rifle. Akhar urged the old war horse under him and slowly approached the warrior.

"The short history of the world of Grandia will end here. I know what you are thinking, and I know what you are looking for."

The rifle was burning along with the old knight and the war horse. The golden red flames lit up from the decaying flag, and then in a flash, enveloped Akhar and his mounts. Then, accompanied by a wanton neigh, a strong war horse full of muscles was like steel, and led its equally young master to walk out of the raging flames and return to the world.

It seems to have spanned a whole thousand years.

The broken armor is now intact. The pieces with cracks before are now as smooth as new. The silver-gray steel is connected by dragon tendons. The knight, who is no longer old, holds the sharp Oliha steel spear in his hand. The gray pupil is burning with a raging fire. Space and energy are condensed beside him at this time, turning into an invisible barrier.

The first commander of the undead, Akhar Aliyev, raised his rifle, and the arc flashed through it, causing the clouds to break through. He calmly said to the warrior who was not far away: "Just defeat me, you will know all the truth and control the fate of this world."

And opposite him.

The warrior nodded seriously.

"I'm just thinking."

At this time, the edge of the plain spanned almost half of the continent. Joshua, who swept through the way, stared at the center of the desolate plain, the alone knight.

The extremely strong war horse and the knight in silver armor seemed like an endless stone statue, standing there like a mountain. Although it was just one person and one horse, it was more terrifying and powerful than the undead army that crushed everything behind the warriors.

The wind blew, causing the rocks surrounding the warrior to shake. Joshua narrowed his eyes slightly, his eyes a little confused.

The multiverse has billions of worlds. Why did I choose me to come here, come to the continent of Mycrov, and come to this world from the endless sea of ​​people?

Perhaps it is to bring everything back on track.

Perhaps it is to change the hopeless future.

Or maybe there is one thing, or many things that only I can accomplish.

Changing the future, changing destiny, shaking the throat called "destiny", and turning the trajectory called "necessity", these may be the reasons why he stood here.

But no matter what, the warrior never thinks about these things in depth.

Qiao Jinglin, who was once the world, and Joshua van Radcliff of the Mycrov continent, did not think about such things, he only knew that in the face of chaos and despair, human beings should fight unremittingly and never retreat.

This is his truth.

And now, the warrior has just defeated the endless undead. In front of the warrior is a powerful enemy who has emerged from the long river of history. He knows all this and only knows all this.

This is enough.

"Sage."

He gently called out the name of the person who caused all this, and Joshua raised the sword and spear in his hand. The spiral energy wrapped around him before it. He pointed the sword and spear at the knight who was accelerating and charging towards him, expressing his sincere feelings.

"You are worth a fight."
Chapter completed!