The Legend of Fatality

Thunderous rumbling echoed on the cliff, and the waves beat the rocks, splashing white waves. The icy, turquoise waters surged across the strait between the reef-filled archipelago, raging to the east, forming a foamy wave, and finally rushed to the distant coast of a small misty island.

In the turquoise waves, the fragments of a ship ’s wreck drifted westward to the island. This was the last wreck that once belonged to a ship. It collided with the moving mist that covered the east channel to the island. There was a lonely person on the wreckage, black hair attached to his skull, his ears were cut, the black robe was torn, blood stained, the only complete thing seemed to be the handle on his back Sword of the sheath.

He clutched the shipwreck desperately, seeing almost nothing, the waves of the sea stung his eyes, and the hammering of the waves threatened to pull him out of the remaining planks and drag him under the sea destroy. His fingers and the flesh on his palms were torn, because he tightly grasped everything that was left on that ship.

He clung to the hope that the sea would eventually lead him to the island ’s beaches until his physical strength was exhausted and the sea killed his life, so he was like a rider on an untamed wild horse, Kicked around weakly. Each of his muscles seemed to be burned by fire, blood swelled from a swollen wound on his forehead, and the feeling of dizziness and nausea threatened him to leave the wreck like waves.

The sea is taking him to the island, although the gleaming mist that envelopes the cliff seems to distort the distance between him and his savior; the previous minute also heralded an impending landing, and the next minute shattered His hopes, because the land seems to be receding.

The fog not only confused his vision, but also seemed to confuse his hearing. Even when the waves were rough, he could hear the beating of the sea water behind a ship sailing across the reef channel. He turned his head around looking for the source of the sound, but he could see nothing but the endless ghostly mist and the tempting white cliffs.

He swallowed a bit of sea water, and then coughed up salt water with all his strength. His body shivered with fatigue and cold, but there was nothing to warm him up. Even more desperate is that the terrible sense of drowsiness wrapped his limbs like a cocoon, and he could feel that the power in him was weakening, as if attracted by a spell.

His eyelids seemed to be covered with lead heavy objects, and he slumped on his eyes, as if he was assuring him that if he closed his eyes and gave up everything, he would be forgotten and would not have to suffer this pain. He woke up from the sleep he knew would kill him, rubbing his torn palm into the edge of the wood chip, this pain was welcome and necessary, even though he screamed with his head raised With.

He screamed for pain, for loss, for an extreme pain that he did not understand.

He did not know how long he had stayed in the water. He doesn't remember the boat he was riding, nor what role he played as a member of the crew. His memory was as vague as a mist, and the fragmented image flew through his mind meaninglessly. There was no meaning. All he could remember was that the merciless sea hit him with unthinking power.

The sea lifted him high above the roaring water, and then threw him back into another dark green sink, but the moment he reached the crest, he looked through his salty eyes again. To the scenery on the island.

The pearly white cliffs are dotted with unusually beautiful plants and trees, closer to him than ever before, and the turbulent waves beat at the foot of the cliff, splitting into pieces of crystal fragments, making a deafening sound. As the mist dissipated, new hope rose from his blood, and he saw a moving curve formed by a golden beach behind a marble rock.

Hysterical laughter boiled in his body, he kicked his feet desperately, stepped on the sea water, trying to reach the land upstream. He gritted his teeth and used his last effort to get up and down, struggling to climb ashore. The sea seemed to be angry because he was deprived of its spoils, struggling to retain him, but he sensed this abyss of despair and summoned the courage to break away from its embrace.

The tortuous beach became larger, surrounding the edge of a rocky bay, where countless trees and rocks stood on the bay. As he sailed into the more subtle waters of the harbour, he felt that his strength was weakening, and he pulled himself onto the remaining wood of his missing ship and continued to drift forward.

His eyes blurred. He knew he had put too much pressure on his tortured body, and it had nothing to give him anymore. He put his head on the smooth wood surface, and as his consciousness began to decline, he felt his limbs relaxed. He smiled as he saw the coastline getting closer and closer, tall poplars and hardy grass extending from the high cliff to the coastline.

The figure of the flying bird hovered in the sky above him, he smiled, and the seabird chirped in the air, as if welcoming him-although he didn't remember anything now, nor how long he had drifted. When the current brought him to the beach, his thoughts flickered. It took him a few minutes to notice the slight impact of his temporary raft on the coast.

He raised his head and spit in the sea water, because he thought he had landed and survived again ~ www.wuxiaspot.com ~ His eyes were filled with tears of joy. He cried, the tears mixed with the salt on the eyelids, and stung his eyes, but he didn't care at all. He dragged himself up from the wood, the piece of wood that took him through the cold turquoise water, and after his body broke away from it, drifted off the coast and rolled into the shallow waves.

He felt that the soft sand beneath him made him ecstatic. He grabbed a **** fist and dug out a lot of sand and climbed to the dry land. He dragged his soaked body to the beach inch by inch, and every difficult effort was accompanied by a sobbing of extreme joy and a gasping of exhaustion.

Finally, he broke away from the sea and turned over with his hands and knees. He clenched his teeth and took a deep breath to support his body. Then he fell to the ground sideways, breathing in his lungs, and tears drawn a line on the dirt on his face A clear road. He was lying on his back, his eyes closed, looking up at the heartbreaking beautiful blue sky.

The scouring of the waves in his ears was his initial consciousness. The sea washes, the leaves rubbed, the birds chirped, and there were strange clicks.

"I'm still alive." He murmured hoarsely. He is still alive, even if the sea, drifting, humans and wild animals want to kill him. He lay wet on the ground and couldn't help giggling. The laughter was sharp, like a whistle. To say that Bai En has any skill, that is, he can always survive.

In an instant, all the tiredness and sleepiness accumulated by floating on the sea came up. Bai En can no longer control his body, just want to sleep like this.

The strange clicking sound was getting closer and closer, but Bai En's eyelids could hardly remain open. Before he closed his eyes completely, he saw a humanoid thing standing above his head. The face of that thing was getting closer and closer to him, but his eyelids were closed and he fainted.