When my warhammer really came down and smashed "Brunhild's" head to pieces, I felt an overwhelming grief.
The pressure felt like a collapsing mountain, nearly crushing my mind completely. My heart seemed to have fallen into a bottomless trench, teetering on the brink of destruction. I even felt every bone in my body trembling, groaning under the strain.
In that moment, I felt as if I had destroyed my other half—and, with my own hands, destroyed my soul as well.
Yu Lian knew that grief was never merely a psychological reaction. It could pass from the mind into the body.
Grief really could swallow you whole. It was as if the emotion had taken the form of a colossal beast, opening a black-hole maw wide enough to devour me—and even the entire universe. Before I had so much as touched that gaping mouth, its gravity, strong enough to crush light, had already seized me. My body turned to dust in an instant.
But just as I was about to be reduced to nothing, the sacred Silver Dragon seemed to send out a clear, ringing cry from the farthest reaches of the cosmos, beyond the distant horizon.
My body, on the verge of crumbling to dust, was caught between the storm of grief and the abyss's relentless pull. Yet it restored itself once more, and grew strong enough to quickly break free of
the wills of the Fantasy Dragon, the Dream Dragon, and the Silver Dragon were still protecting me. The nature of the aether in my cells also allowed my body to withstand greater pressure.
So, before grief could crush my mind, Yu Lian had already regained his composure. He suddenly realized that if the mind and spirit could affect the body, then couldn't the body likewise affect the mind?