Chapter 360 Open the champagne at halftime

Author: Half-wounded but not broken

Chapter 360 Open the champagne at halftime

Only those who have witnessed death can see the soul with the naked eye.

But witnessing death mentioned here is not as simple as seeing someone die in front of you.

A battlefield with extremely high casualties, a disaster that affected an extremely severe area, a moment when a large number of lives were quickly extinguished, a powerful necromancy spell, or someone who had faced death or the divine power of death.

Depending on individual circumstances, whether one can obtain the ability to see the soul with the naked eye is somewhat different, and cannot be generalized.

Kemir has never experienced any of the above-mentioned things, but he can see the spirit body overflowing from Miles' body. This is because the place of Endless Void is very special.

Souls from countless planes in the multiverse will merge into the river of souls here, so here, even if you don't have the ability to see souls with the naked eye, it still has no impact.

A large number of spirit bodies overflowed like a fountain. Miles muttered something bad and pulled up the skin on his chest with his hands, just like plasticine. The hole that the flying dragon dodged was blocked in an instant, and the spirit bodies also

No more spilling from the wound.

"How many people have you killed?"

"Ah? Is your brain like a mashed tomato?"

Miles said impatiently:

"Human beings are just food to me. How many pieces of bread can you count?"

He had no respect for life and said in an understatement:

"The reward of 500 gold coins can buy enough slaves for me to feed me for four to five years. It would be better if they can have children between them. Young children will eat more tenderly."

This person, no, this creature, is the purest and most undisguised evil that Kemir has never seen or heard of.

Unexpectedly, Kemir was not angry, let alone sad.

This is incredible, because according to Kemir's character, he should have been furious by now.

Kemir's background is not unique. Her father is a scholar and her mother is the daughter of a businessman. This kind of family environment cannot be said to be wealthy, but it is definitely not possible to be in poverty.

Kemir is like most children. When he was young, he was not interested in anything other than playing.

Just like in elementary school, the teacher would assign essays about "dreams". Some people want to be police officers, and some people want to be doctors, but these are actually just children's fantasies.

Reality is full of uncertainties, and few people can stick to their childhood dreams until they come true, so dreams at this time are really just thoughts.

The same goes for Kemir. He has never seriously considered what he wants to do or who he wants to be in the future. He just lives a step-by-step life under the arrangement of his parents. The word ideal does not exist for him.

Until a little thing happened.

Kemir's family has a dog. This dog was bought by his father from a friend before he was born. Although it is not a precious breed, it is very smart.

It grew up with Camille, played together, and was his best friend.

But the life span of a dog cannot be compared with that of a human being. When Kemir was ten years old, the dog died of old age.

This is the first time in young Kemil's life that he has faced death head-on. He still doesn't quite understand what death means and seems confused. He is just sad that his friend is gone.

He buried the dog in the yard of his house, facing the window of his room. Whenever it was quiet at night, he hoped to hear the dog barking.

On the surface, Kemil's life had no impact at all, and the sadness seemed to only last a short time.

A few days later, on Camille's tenth birthday, his father asked him what gift he wanted. For some reason, Camille said he wanted a sword.

Even he himself was surprised by his decision, which seemed to come out of his mouth.

Maybe he has faced death, maybe he was influenced by others, or maybe he wants to reverse his grief by his own strength.

This was the first time that Kemir truly made his own choice.

Kemir's father was a silent and serious scholar. Usually, if his children asked for a sword, he would usually buy him a wooden sword for them to play with, but his father directly brought back a very exquisite real steel sword.

Your life can only be chosen by you, and anyone, including your parents, can only make suggestions.

This sentence was deeply engraved in Kemir's heart like a brand. Even if he couldn't understand it when he was young, he would always think of his father's words every time he saw the sword.

But Kemir is still confused. He has no goals, no ideals, and doesn't know what kind of person he wants to be. Sword training has become a way to vent this confusion.

To this day, Kemir is still confused. He still can't figure out what his ideal is and what he wants to do.

But one thing is for sure.

Kemir had never wanted to kill another creature so much.

It has nothing to do with morality or law, and it has nothing to do with calculating gains and losses. He just wants to kill the creature in front of him.

"Oh……"

"Why are you laughing? Your expression looks like a toilet rag. You should cry. If you cry nicely, I might make your death less painful."

Miles' words were worthless to Camille, going in one ear and out the other.

He laughed because he found that after letting go of all the baggage that he had been unwilling to let go, he felt so happy.

Yes, if you want to kill him, just do it.

Morality and justice are just a kind of prejudice. There is no need to find reasons for yourself. The important thing is whether you want to do it or not.

The sword his father gave him has been cracked with dense cracks. Kemir knew that the sword would not last long, but perhaps the cracks in the sword were more like he had finally broken through the restraint he had on himself.

"If you take risks, you will eventually be rewarded."

Miles seemed to be looking at a madman. He didn't like madmen because they didn't taste good.

The eyes hidden under the blond bangs stared at Miles, and Camille assumed an attacking posture:

"Power rises!"

With a step of his foot, under the influence of the increased brute force, he rushed straight towards Miles.

"Stupid guy, you are absolutely! Absolutely right! There is no way you can beat me. Why don't you understand!"

Miles's huge body has exaggerated arm length. Even though Kemile is holding a long sword, he does not have an advantage in terms of the length of the weapon, but has an absolute disadvantage in terms of strength.

"Broken Golden Sword!"

However, Kemir changed his previous style of play that relied on flexibility and speed, and instead went head-to-head without dodging.

As the surging energy poured into the blade, the structure of the long sword, which had lost its integrity, began to gradually collapse, and some metal fragments fell down.

However, it can still hold on, just like Camille himself. Although he is confused, he will never give up.

Miles' sharp claws collided with the long sword from the front without fear. The Broken Gold Sword is a combat technique that can greatly increase the power of slashing. Although it is very rudimentary, it is widely spread because of its practicality.

The broken blade hit Miles' palm without any hindrance, tearing it apart easily.

Creatures with super self-regeneration abilities usually have little defense.

This point was mentioned in the adventurer school courses. Although Camille was never able to determine what Miles was, the rules taught by the teacher were correct.

As if he mustered all his strength, the sword split open Miles's forearm under the influence of combat skills, causing the radius and ulna to separate left and right along with a large amount of sticky flesh.

At the same time, Kemir's body rotated rapidly, and the sword blade in his hand also moved upward along with the rotation of his body.

Miles' arm immediately flew up into the air, just as Camille did on the wooden practice target at the school practice field, easily cutting off one of Miles's hands.

But the target won't fight back, and to Miles, the loss of a hand is not a loss at all.

"You idiot whose brain is all glue, do you think you have a solution? Think about it with your incompletely developed brain!"

Miles probably didn't feel pain. He didn't care at all that his right hand was cut off. Kemir in front of him happened to expose his side in order to rotate his body. This was an excellent opportunity.

His left hand penetrated from the lower left side, as fast and swift as a poisonous snake emerging from its hole, aiming at Camille's side waist.

Human beings are fragile, and there are kidneys in the waist. Moreover, with Miles' strength, he can go directly through the kidneys and pull out Kemir's liver, pancreas, and stomach.

This is a vicious and cruel way of killing, and Miles likes to see people who have been eviscerated crawling and struggling on the ground.

The sharp black nails have almost touched Camille's chain mail shirt, and he will be able to disembowel him in the next second.

"Surge of energy!"

To activate the surge of energy again, what Kemir wants is not to increase speed and flexibility, but the effect of 'explosive energy'.

Turbulent air waves overflowed from the pores all over the body, like a wall made of strong wind. Although it could not stop Miles' sharp claws, it could blow Miles's body away.

Bright sparks burst out on Camille's chainmail shirt, and Miles's claws were obviously crooked due to his body losing balance.

Sliding along the surface of the chainmail shirt from the side to the front, the sharp nails just touched the belt and the small bottle hanging on the buckle of the belt.

The belts used by adventurers have many buckles similar to machine gun bullet belts. In addition to being used to hang weapons, they can also hold potions there for easy access and use.

The potion is only made of thick glass, which is hard and brittle, and it cannot resist Miles' sharp claws.

With the sound of a series of glass shattering, some kind of cherry red liquid flowed into Miles' hand.

"Healing potion! You, a bastard born of cockroaches and flies, actually...!"

Miles's hands emitted a large amount of white smoke as if they were on fire, his indestructible nails softened and deformed, and the soft flesh on his palms looked as if gel was festering and falling off.

Camille is not as knowledgeable as Perrenli, nor is he as analytical as Perrenli. He doesn't know what Miles is.

But even he knows one thing very well.

Healing potions are absolutely poisonous to undead creatures, vampires and other creatures that rely on negative energy to heal their wounds.

"This is all thanks to a friend of mine who likes to make potions!"

Relying on the speed and flexibility provided by the surging energy, Kemir quickly stabilized his body:

"Steel-cutting sword!"

A crescent-shaped energy visible to the naked eye rose up from the broken blade, and the Zanteet Sword originally fired from a medium distance exploded at close range, hitting Miles's chest diagonally.

Win!

From this distance, he can't dodge!
Chapter completed!