Arknights' Lock of Heaven

The aura forged in bloody battles was far beyond what the cowardly Biederman could withstand; for a moment, his mind went blank.

"Relax, everyone!" At this critical moment, Mud Rock came to the rescue. "We're not on a battlefield. I trust Dr. Anto. You don't need to be on edge all the time!"

Upon hearing this, the Sarkaz veterans' morale plummeted, and they resumed their joking and chatting.

When Severin, who was in the audience, saw his son covered in blood, he jumped to his feet, only to be held down by Andrew, who was equally shocked.

“Dr. Anto is here!” He pressed Severin down firmly. “Thor will be alright!”

Several hands reached out towards him from the surrounding area.

Now that they have a favor to ask of the host, they must naturally abide by the host's rules.

Severin, his face ashen, was forcibly pressed down.

In the specially designed audience seats, several pairs of eyes were fixed intently on what was happening inside the tent.

"Thor!" Kevin was the first to react inside the tent.

Despite his growing resentment towards his childhood friend, their decade-long friendship compelled him to immediately drop his first-aid kit and rush towards his friend.

"My God, what have you encountered?!"

He pushed past Biederman, helped Thor up, and looked up at Anto in front of him, "Dr. Anto, take a look..."

"Relax, relax," Anto said to Thor, and also to himself.

"Take it slow, let go of my hand first so I can see the wound."

She lowered her head, pretending to look at Thor's blood-stained abdomen, afraid that he would see her eyes.

At this moment, Thor looked at Anto in front of him.

“Dr. Anto,” Thor’s voice was tinged with fervor, full of energy that belied his serious injuries.

Although the atmosphere inside the tent seemed a bit off, there was no turning back now that the arrow had been released.

“Thor, you…” Kevin began to speak in confusion, but was interrupted by a loud shout.

"Thank you for your sacrifice!"

What followed was the figure of the casting unit flying towards the center of the tent, and the dazzling light it emitted when overloaded.

It only takes three seconds, and it's all over.

In a daze, Kevin was kicked away by Thor, who quickly pulled the stunned Biederman in front of him and activated his Originium Arts to the maximum extent.

They completely disregarded their friendship of more than ten years.

A layer of solid white ice protected Thor and Biederman.

One second!

He watched as the casting unit slowly glided through the air, its light growing increasingly intense.

He watched in vain as the Sarkaz mercenaries leaped into the air, their eyes blazing with fury, trying to stop them, but could only watch in vain as it grew brighter and brighter.

Where he couldn't see, the 'big shots' of Wolumond scattered and fled, while only his father stood there, his eyes filled with disbelief.

Finally, Thor looked at Anto in front of him, as if trying to see something in the latter's eyes.

Confused? Perplexed? Fearful?

No, none of those.

Anto looked into his own eyes and saw only mockery.

She didn't try to stop the overload of the casting unit; she simply crossed her arms and stared coldly at herself.

It's as if... it's as if...

It was as if she already knew everything.

Impossible! How could she possibly know!

Two seconds!

Thor looked up at the spellcasting unit he had thrown into the air, from which raging flames were already erupting.

Immediately, everyone in the tent, except for himself and Biederman who were prepared, would be burned to charcoal by the burst of thousands of degrees of flame that lasted for more than ten seconds.

Soon, my plan will be completed.

Just a little bit closer!

Flames erupted from the casting unit, illuminating the desperate faces of the Sarkaz below who were trying to stop them.

"Damn it!" Thor had already forced himself to ignore Anton's mocking gaze and turn his head to find that Biederman was still lost in thought for some reason!

He grabbed the latter by the collar and slapped him across the face. There was no time to control him with words anymore; now he could only rely on violence to bring him to his senses.

After all, the overload of the casting unit is just around the corner.

After enduring temperatures of thousands of degrees, his Originium Arts overload would cause him to fall into a coma, at which point he would only be able to rely on this unreliable guy.

Sometimes Thor looked at Biederman and felt fortunate for his cowardice, otherwise he wouldn't have been able to sway him so easily. But when it came to the crucial moment, a coward was unreliable!

There's no time left, so we can only pin our hopes on him!

Three seconds!

Hopefully, this slap will wake him up.

However, even after he finished slapping her, the intense heat that he had been bracing for was nowhere to be seen.

Thor sensed something was wrong. Based on his understanding of the spellcasting unit, it shouldn't have failed to erupt by now.

While he was in a daze, the Biederman in his hand seemed to lose its strength and slipped from his grasp, collapsing limply to the ground.

Four seconds!

The imagined flames have not yet arrived.

Five seconds.

Nothing happened.

Thor's heart sank to the bottom. He stiffly moved his body and slowly turned his head.

One hand grasped the casting unit.

The scorching heat of over a thousand degrees Celsius in this hand acts like a docile sheep, restraining its form.

A familiar face looked at me with a half-smile.

It was that consultant who made him grit his teeth.

“Mr. Thorwald,” that stunningly beautiful face was nothing short of hell for Thorleso at this moment.

He held up the neatly crafted spellcasting unit in his hand and asked.

"Excuse me, what do you mean by this?"

"And what did you just say? Sacrifice?"

Do you think you're qualified to say those two words?

114 Flick of the Finger

Biederman at his feet had slumped down like a lump of mud.

Thor realized clearly that he could not count on him.

Faced with Xia Yu's ambiguous smile, the flickering flames in his hand, and the menacing Sarkaz around him, Thor took a deep breath.

There's no need to panic.

Thor accurately grasped the crux of the matter.

Whatever the reason for this situation, he only has one path to take.

Now that their target, Anto, is protected behind the Rhodes Island advisor, there's only one option left...

Even if a person is very docile, a temperature of over a thousand degrees Celsius will still be affected if their balance is disrupted.

This is the last glimmer of hope.

He believed that even if the overloaded spellcasting units could be calmed, it would require a great deal of effort.

Attack this mysterious advisor, disrupting the balance of his spellcasting units.

To achieve this goal, I must do everything in my power.

Because the Sarkaz also alerted themselves and surrounded the area where the advisor was.

Thor never lacked decisiveness.

He wielded his Originium Arts, and the solid ice wall instantly transformed into sharp arrows.

Even if using this technique causes irreversible damage to one's body, and even after that, without protection, one will be reduced to ashes by the overloaded casting units.

But for the sake of Wolumonde... I can't worry about that now.

This is a secret technique from the tower.

But this is the last resort for a desperate comeback.