Staring directly at the ancient gods for a whole year

Life and death in his hands, he wields disaster. In the fungus-transformed Scholarly Palace, the Mechanical Tyrant descends for guidance.

Actually, due to Ah Kongsi's previous experiences, everyone is playing their cards openly, with no reservations.

For example, their putting people behind glass, and my own Mythical Form: Avatar of the King of Abandoned Prisons.

The reason for not rushing to use this move is actually simple: playing with open cards requires even more skill.

If I can crush them one by one, why rush to use a bomb?

My Mythical Form has limitations when used, so it's normal to gather them together before unleashing it.

Of course, given that it's a conjugate heart demon, the other party will definitely be able to guess my thoughts, but that's the power of a calculated scheme.

And it's easy to confirm that, just like with Ah Kongsi, I've been exiled into a temporary file that's meant to be deleted after reading.

But seeing… then it can be broken.

The meaning of climbing high and looking far lies in this.

But now there are two problems: first, the temporary file in front of me is far more resilient than the one I encountered with Ah Kongsi, because it is in a 'real' state.

The addition of special authority, the reconstruction of fungal form interpretation, gives it an amazing resilience.

Even the awakening of the will behind the power makes this reconstruction more thorough, not giving me a chance to exploit loopholes.

Obviously, the Fungus Emperor, who was violently awakened, is in a very bad mood.

Second, in the real world Scholarly Palace behind the glass, there is no Jade Soul Lord.

…

That's right, although it was just a fleeting glimpse, given the death-lock chain now tied between us, Fu Qian is obviously more likely to confirm some things.

The Jade Soul Lord is not in the Scholarly Palace; everything that happens there is accomplished through alternative channels, such as his favorite mental world excursions.

So, a risk that must currently be considered is that the opponent I want to kill is not only hiding behind bulletproof glass but is even remotely controlling things via a telephone line.

And as everyone knows, I am very unwelcome in this place's mental world.

So, even if I spend the effort to break the cage, I probably won't be able to find anyone in the Scholarly Palace, and there will be obstacles to continue tracking.

It can be called all-around, no-dead-angle protection; the meaning of violent cracking is compressed to the lowest level—but it still needs to be cracked.

Heaven and earth tremble.

On the Tyrant's body, which no one dares to look directly at, strands of gray-white filaments are casually torn off, disintegrating into ash the moment they leave the body.

Enjoying the process is not just self-proclaimed empty words; the result of cracking is unknown, but isn't there still the process of violence?

I was happy that the Jade Soul Lord chose this hands-on approach, but it was never just politeness.

As for the things torn from the body?

Simple, the power of damage transfer comes from this.

The world is reconstructed with the structure and connection of mycelium, and I am also a part of it, so that the effect just now can be achieved.

It's just that in the second-order state, I can't sense this connection, nor can I destroy it—*crack!*

Actually, there is no concept of sound in the ordinary sense; this sound effect in perception is a rhythm that oscillates on the mycelium.

And what stimulates this rhythm is the female sword saint's trapezius muscle.

I've been talking about the benefits of puppets, but now the disadvantages are also reflected—even in the face of the Tyrant's presence, it still can't calculate the option to run away.

But they really should run.

The female sword saint, rushing in the front, is instantly pierced by a punch.

As a stubborn stone in the mycelial world that cannot be transformed, damage transfer has completely lost its effect.

Fu Qian's movements did not stop, directly tearing the body to both sides.

*Chih—*

At that moment, it's hard not to think of tearing apart king oyster mushrooms.

And unfortunately, the female sword saint doesn't seem to have the ability to continue to differentiate; the body instantly loses activity, and falls to the ground like dandruff.

At the same time, a sharp blade also plunged into Fu Qian's lower back.

The wound is so deep that even such a giant body is still pierced through.

The newest and fastest novels are all on 69shu.com!

Just winking swordplay, even if sacrificing a partner, shouldn't be able to do this.

On the tip of the sword protruding, you can clearly see the previously reviewed, unusual flash of light.

And at this moment, the degree of brilliance is even greater than before the avatar, condensing into a power that corrodes everything.

Not so pure, but ancient and sublime.

You can even feel that the section that hasn't come out is also frantically extending strange mycelium—

Good, that's what I want.

The awakened high-ranking will, descending on the top-level puppet, perfectly condenses its own authority within it, turning the latter into an even more crazy weapon… a perfectly normal choice.

But what Fu Qian is even more looking forward to is this brilliance.

Although it is mycelium, it is as brilliant as a crystal—I didn't see it wrong before, it really is a crystal.

Just like Professor Carlaudora mentioned, this special form of power is complementing the extraordinary, sublimating the extraordinary… even the briefly reappearing ancient high-ranking beings have been patched up by this.

What kind of project did that Scholarly Palace exploration team find?

*Chila—*

Ignoring the penetrating weapon, Fu Qian's San Que Yi in his hand has already directly torn apart the figure behind him.

But not the real body.

Like the sword still stuck in his body, the body quickly degenerates into ordinary gray-white mycelium scattered all over the ground, but the attacker has not weakened in the slightest, but is hiding in this strange world, in any form, whether concrete or abstract…

After the 'Fungus Emperor' personally arrives, the remaining sword saint seems to be completely in harmony with the surrounding environment; perhaps now he should be called the Sword God?

Even with the Eye of Disaster, it is not easy to find him, and if there are a few more sneak attacks, even the divine body of the King of Abandoned Prisons will inevitably be eroded by that top-level authority—why look for him?

Once again, as the world shakes, the Mechanical Tyrant's fist has directly penetrated the ground beneath his feet.

The premise of perfect harmony between man and nature is that the sky will not shatter.

There is also a word for it, called being slapped to death together.

I never mind the actions of my opponents, which is the so-called good shade under a big tree, joining an organization to seek shelter.

Ignoring the attack that appeared behind him again, the visceral crit from the King of Abandoned Prisons, coupled with the Curse of Disaster that directly locked onto the entire Fungus Emperor's divine kingdom, with fangs condensed from the power of dimensional poison, clawed out.