Colin seemed to have figured it out, but Colin didn't really want to understand.
Of course not!
Philemon quickly interrupted Colin, worried that he might suddenly commit suicide if they disagreed.
"It's not about cutting off the neck—if the neck is broken, the Psionic Energy connection is naturally severed as well."
"If it's not about cutting off the throat, then what exactly are you thinking?"
Colin was losing patience. He also felt that he shouldn't have slit his own throat, but he couldn't think of any other way.
"Who said it wasn't a neck-cutting?"
Philemon looked at Colin and said slowly, firmly, and earnestly:
"Cut off the neck, but don't sever it."
Philemon detailed his observations and the conjectures he drew upon based on them.
The skeleton's memories are stored in each bone, so skeletons with missing limbs will randomly lose some of their memories.
The skeletons still rely on their brains, which lack flesh and blood, to think, making their necks, like those of humans, a weak point.
The seemingly slender neck not only needs to store some memories, but also needs to be responsible for calling on the memories of every part of the body to the brain so that the best decisions can be made.
Therefore, the best location for Psionic Energy connections between the bones in a skeletal person is actually their neck.
Philemon meant to cut the neck in half so that the relic in his hand could intervene in Colin's own Psionic Energy cycle.
But it can't be completely severed, otherwise it would just die.
After hearing Philemon's explanation, Colin was completely dumbfounded.
He looked at the old governor, hesitated for a long time, and then said:
"How about... I do you a favor?"
"Never mind."
Philemon rose and bowed:
"Councilor, I'm going back to my headquarters now."
After saying this, he immediately left the place, determined to never have anything to do with Colin again.
In the empty tent, Colin's finger bones traced the incredibly sharp horse-slaying sword.
He gazed at the exquisitely crafted, colorful crystal facets, like a renowned collector admiring his most prized treasures.
"If only I could become one with you..."
He held the saber horizontally in front of him with both hands, the long blade even requiring extra support from his left elbow.
Using both hands and elbows simultaneously, Colin finally managed to hold the gleaming blade against his own neck.
"It can be said that this life has not been in vain."
He raised his head, trying to widen the gap between his vertebrae, and then gently pushed the sharp blade forward.
Cut into your own neck, but don't sever it.
He incorporated the longsword into his Psionic Energy circulation system and established a connection with it.
Then what?
In excruciating pain that nearly made him lose consciousness, Colin's cleaver was halfway embedded in the crevice of his cervical vertebrae.
Not a penny more, not a penny less; half was used to sustain his own survival, and the other half was used to supply the intruding outsiders with his Psionic Energy.
Come, let us become one!
Colin murmured again, forcibly probing his consciousness into the saber that had temporarily become a part of him.
This is a relic, formed from the remains of [ Divine Wings ], and it should contain many memories belonging to [ Divine Wings ].
If one can inherit something valuable from it, then it can be considered a blessing in disguise.
Colin held the knife still with both hands, his head slightly lowered, his two cervical vertebrae firmly wedging the blade.
The Psionic Energy flame in his eyes grew dimmer and dimmer, on the verge of being extinguished.
Finally, at the moment when he was infinitely close to death, Colin successfully probed his consciousness into the sword.
only...
This memory, this angle, this is...
Osmond, the warlord?!
Wow, this guy's ruthless!
At the entrance to Colin's tent, several players cautiously observed the situation inside.
The [ Chosen of the Four Gods ], skilled at manipulating eyes, chooses one eye to keep watch and the other to peek.
Seeing this, even the chosen one of Khorne, who had gouged out his own eyes last night, couldn't help but Khorne tongue in disapproval.
"I'm willing to give him my name, if Colin wants it."
[ Gu Gugu ], standing to the side, was equally shocked:
"This reminds me of that Japanese author who failed to commit seppuku. His second tried to kill him three times but couldn't. If Colin had that kind of swordsmanship, one strike would probably have been enough."
Stop looking!
[ Ever-Changing Master Ye ] noticed Colin's subtle body movements:
"He looks like he's waking up!"
The others all turned their gaze away, leaving only [ The Chosen of the Four Gods ], who had his eyeballs plucked out and placed in his palm, to continue watching with great interest.
Inside the tent, Colin's consciousness was in utter chaos.
The anticipated [ Divine Wings ] memories did not appear; instead, a series of chaotic and disorganized images emerged.
The images were contradictory, yet they didn't seem fake. It took him a long time to figure it out before he realized that these memories didn't come from [ Divine Wings ], and they didn't even come from a single person.
Just like some people who have been dreaming for a long time but wake up to find that less than an hour has passed, Colin's current mental processing speed is much faster than normal.
He examined it carefully for a long time and finally pieced together two independent timelines, which could even be corroborated by certain points of intersection in his memories.
Osmond Palmer.
Two names came to Colin's mind.
It wasn't one person, nor was it [ Divine Wings ], but rather these two high-ranking warlords who had died in battle.
Having identified the owner of the memories, Colin scrolled down the timeline and even saw Osmond remotely projecting the scene of crushing his former boss.
Finally, time froze at yesterday, at the battlefield twenty hours ago, at [ Divine Wings ]'s two seemingly casual attacks.
Osmond and Palmer...
They didn't die in battle; they were killed by Lord [ Divine Wings ]!
In an instant, the overwhelming emotions from his memories almost drowned out Colin's consciousness.
It wasn't anger, it wasn't pain, but...
Endless humiliation and hatred.
Osmond and Palmer, two military officers who rose to High Tier as overseers, were practically candidates for parliament.
These two men died in endless humiliation.
They are loyal to the Skeleton Alliance, and if [ Divine Wings ] tells them the truth, they would be happy to dedicate themselves to it.
But [ Divine Wings ] chose to deceive Osmond and to ambush Palmer.
Even with their utmost loyalty to the Alliance, they could not accept such an ending.
He kept the humiliation to himself, but his hatred was not directed at the Skeleton Alliance, but only at [ Divine Wings ].
But... but Lord [ Divine Wings ] himself died in yesterday's battle.
In a moment of being blinded by hatred, Colin almost succumbed to it and killed that despicable senator.
But [ Divine Wings ] was beyond dead, even more gruesome than Osmond and Palmer's deaths.
These two were at least able to leave behind weapons formed from their bodies, but the [ Divine Wings ] that self-destructed with Psionic Energy have been gone forever.
The lack of someone to hate allowed Colin to gradually regain his sanity, or rather, it allowed Osmond and Palmer's remaining memories to return to normalcy.
They gradually calmed down, and in a daze, Colin seemed to see Osmond and Palmer standing in front of him.
There was no sound, no Psionic Energy fluctuation, but Osmond and Palmer's thoughts appeared in Colin's mind—
"What is it for?"
Looking at the two figures, one seemingly an illusion and the other a genuine remnant of a soul, Colin gritted his teeth and whispered:
"I need power..."
What is it used for?
"..."
Colin fell silent, then sighed wistfully:
"Let's bring everyone back to the Alliance."