Durandal Rises from the Ashes on a Black Steed, and Fists Are the Weapons Least Willing to Take Detours

"And he still needed them to complete the final round of selection," Huo Yuhao continued. "Severing the connection was only the first step. The instant the chain broke, an immensely powerful Imaginary Torrent would erupt. That torrent would tear apart every impure will at the scene. Only those who remained standing to the end would be worthy of entering that door. He was using their strength to weed out those unqualified to approach the Tree. Even he himself might be weeded out. So when he spread his arms, he wasn't waiting to die. He was waiting for judgment."

"That madman." Ji Dong growled. "At the very end, he still wanted to use them as a sieve! To weed out everyone who shouldn't be alive for him?"

"He had always been like this," Lie Yan said softly. "Don't you understand yet? Every step Otto took was never for the sake of living. It was to get closer to Kallen. He treated himself as something to be filtered too. If he couldn't endure it, then he didn't deserve it. If he did, that proved he truly had the right to stand before Kallen. That was his logic. From beginning to end."

On the screen, Durandal and Kiana had already charged in front of Otto. Golden light and silver flames surged at the same time, like two skies closing together above Otto's head. Durandal's fist broke through the white light and slammed toward the Tree-Pattern Core in Otto's chest. Kiana's flames followed close behind, like a silver-red dragon pouring straight into the invisible chain behind Otto.

The two forces collided.

In that instant, the image seemed to shatter into countless fragments. There was no sound, only an unbearably white light that swallowed all of Kolosten. Otto threw back his head. Tree patterns peeled