Accompanied by a hum, the shell of the incubator slowly opened.
"Go."
Kael remained silent for a long ti, stepping forward slowly, feeling the burden on him so heavy that his steps were labored.
He hated this imposed burden.
But... after seeing the Spiritual Body World, he realized that he had probably been deeply entrenched in it already.
When the laboratory’s chanical arm lifted his clothes and assembled the disassembled pieces of armor onto Kael, he felt endless pain transmitting from his skin to his brain.
His skin was dissolving, the Divine Armor was lting, slowly perating into his skin, and rging with his blood.
However, the pain unbearable to ordinary people left no trace on Kael’s face. The surging Sli Mucus erupted from his body, seemingly sensing Kael’s pain, it emitted a mournful cry and threw itself into the lting Armor, eventually fusing into a bloody red pattern.
At this mont, his entire body was enveloped in hard Armor, those pieces shimring with a beautiful luster, like blood-like crimson Armor. Sharp spikes protruded from the surface of the shell, and with Kael’s breathing, the Divine Armor slowly undulated, with his bones making unsettling cracking sounds.
But his face, under that warm light, appeared so serene, looking like a well-behaved child quietly observing the world.
But when he opened his eyes again, they were full of coldness.
He clenched his fist vigorously, the gushing Sli Mucus completely engulfed the Divine Armor, collapsing back into his body like a liquid, revealing his fit upper body.
"As you wish." Kael looked up at the ceiling, as though seeing through the ceiling and into the creeping darkness.
Dr. Osborne coughed heavily, his pale face showing a smile that increased in arc until it finally turned into deafening laughter:
"Go, a child’s eyes ought to behold stars and oceans, strive forth with might!"
Kael didn’t say much, just stepped into the vast moonlight under the silent gazes of everyone.
At that point, he was sensing the bodily states of various Rangers reflecting back from the injured Aister, aware that there wasn’t much ti left for him.
This was his war, one man as an army, bearing down with the force of thousands of horses, his sword aid at... the Chosen.
At the entrance of the institute, watching Kael drive the off-road vehicle into the moonlight, Dr. Osborne’s face, once filled with a vibrant smile, gradually faded.
Standing behind him, watching Kael’s figure disappearing into the moonlight, gradually turning transparent, then only Dr. Osborne remained standing in the wind for a long while before he turned and walked back into the institute:
"So, the final arrangent is also complete, Father, will I be a son you can be proud of?"
He looked back at the empty institute, leaned on the worn sofa, rembering the last conversation with his father a few years ago. Continue reading at .Côm
Rembering the humiliation facing the high-dinsional and the deep fear.
...
Goblin Empire Capital - Located 2000 ters deep, the Ascension Research Institute, a room no one could approach.
An Old Goblin was lying calmly on the bed.
He was very old, his face full of dense wrinkles, his cheeks extrely gaunt, as gaunt as tangled old tree roots.
His bedside was filled with dense instrunts, among which the most striking was a giant glass jar, in which half a skull soaked in liquid.
It was the skull of the first goblin who voluntarily sacrificed himself in the Heavenly Ladder Plan, his flesh rged with the flesh of an Evil God who held the right to life, but could not withstand the force and wavered constantly between life and death, leaving only this still-conscious skull in this world.
At the brink of bodily collapse, this martyr chose to give up everything he had.
"Take whatever can be used, if I can still be of use to the plan now."
The continuously activated Divine Particles, along with the infusion tube, entered into the Old Goblin’s body, but couldn’t repair his body, only keeping him alive.
He was indeed too old, so old that he should have reached the end of his life long ago. If not by these ans, he could not have lived lingering on.
He wasn’t afraid of dying, but he knew he had to stay alive at this ti.
As the screen in front of the bed shook, Dr. Osborne’s image appeared on the projection screen.
His expression complex, he looked at the Old Goblin on the bed: "Prophet, we succeeded, the insect nest threatening the Empire capital has been repelled."
"Why do you always call Prophet every ti we et." The Old Goblin sighed, his voice a bit decayed.
"Because you are indeed the ’Prophet’."
"Ha, rely standing from a high-dinsional perspective, seeing more than you all.
Moreover, the word prophet is too heavy, I’ve always been waiting for you, yet even to this day, you do not wish to call father."
"’Prophet’, that’s off-limits." The skull floating in the liquid uttered a dull voice, "Emotions will affect our judgnt on the continuation of the plan, and that is very dangerous."
The Old Goblin on the bed showed a relieved smile: "Don’t worry, ’Life’, I’m nearly dead."
"I won’t let you die, old friend." The skull spoke somberly.
"Yet in this room, both you and I shall et our end." The Old Goblin said blandly, then looked again at Dr. Osborne’s projection, his normally impassive face unusually wearing a slight smile:
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