The Great Dream God

The corners of Edward's mouth trembled slightly, and his silent response seemed particularly solemn in the silence. He clenched his teeth, as if he was fighting fiercely with the fear or pain in his heart. His firm willpower permeated the air, like a vow made of steel. Gradually, a strange light quietly bloomed on his body, like blood-red stars in the dark night, shining brightly and illuminating the darkness around him.

It was a deep and blazing light, like a treasure soaked in blood, flowing and spreading on his skin, and finally condensed into a majestic armor. This armor was not made of ordinary iron, but was melted by his determination and courage, and every inch was engraved with his bravery and persistence. It was not only a piece of protective equipment, but also a symbol of his faith, a shield that allowed him to stand firm in the face of fate, and a torch that helped him find light in the darkness.

Edward's eyes were firm and his figure was upright, like an unshakable monument, standing between challenges and difficulties, ready to meet the coming battle.

He was like a god of death baptized in a sea of ​​red blood, his cape fluttering, and every step he took shattered the silence of darkness. The crimson halo that permeated his body was the end of life and a symbol of strength. His eyes were as cold as frost, like the farthest stars in the night sky, flashing with ruthless light. His upright body looked even more powerful under the reflection of the blood, and every movement was filled with endless killing intent, charging forward unstoppably, and wherever he passed, there was only the withering of death and the shock of silence.

At the foot of the towering mountains, a team of warriors in purple and gold armor stood like a rock. Their figures reflected a resolute silhouette in the sunlight, like a magnificent painting. The purple armor, inlaid with glittering gems, was like the stars in the night sky, flashing fearless light. The faces of the soldiers were resolute and stern, and every tooth was tightly clenched, as if you could hear the metallic collision sound, which was a symphony of determination and tenacity.

They looked up at the towering mountain, as if looking up at an insurmountable chasm. The top of the mountain was shrouded in clouds and mist, like a fairyland, but it also exuded a sense of awe. Their eyes burned with blazing flames.

At the foot of the mountain, the purple-armored soldiers formed a solid line of defense.

In the deep darkness, a demon in a purple cloak stood in a majestic posture. His voice was like thunder in the night wind, shaking every fiber of the air: "As long as we occupy this majestic mountain, those humans who dare to invade our demon territory will have nowhere to escape. Their doomsday is at hand!" His purple eyes flashed with a cold light, as if the stars were sinking in the abyss, and every pupil reflected contempt and anger for the enemy.

"How dare they set foot on our holy land and challenge our endless authority! This is an insult to the demon race and a trampling on our dignity." His words were like an icy waterfall, cold and resolute, and every syllable was filled with curses on the enemy. Below the cliff, thousands of demons roared in response, like a symphony in the dark night, foreshadowing an impending massacre.

"We are demons, the embodiment of fear, and the masters of death! Those self-righteous humans will tremble under the shadow of this mountain. Their blood will nourish this land and become a sacrifice to our victory!" The purple demon waved the spear in his hand, and the fluctuations of magic power on it were like dazzling fireworks, heralding the coming storm.

Another demon, wearing a cloak of the night, nodded quietly in response. His movements were like the trembling of the moonlight on the lake, silent but full of power. Before the two stunned companions could recover from the shock, Edward, the blood-burning existence, had descended on them like a storm. His figure, like a red meteor in the twilight, pierced the quiet night sky and instantly lit up their world.

Edward's bloody figure, like a sculpture burning in flames, exudes endless majesty and mystery. His eyes are as deep as stars, containing the secrets of the universe, and every tiny movement seems to contain the rhythm of heaven and earth. His arrival is like an unfinished symphony, every note is breathtaking, and every moment is full of unpredictable variations.

The air around him froze as Edward appeared, as if time had stopped at this moment, with only his figure dancing in the light and shadow, like a vivid painting. The two companions, their pupils reflected the blood-red phantom that could not be ignored, and their hearts were stirred with ripples of fear and awe. This sudden scene, like the calm before the storm, foreshadowed an impending upheaval.

In that dim corner, the figures of the two demons trembled suddenly, as if they were suddenly attacked by an invisible fear, and their pupils shrank to the size of a needle tip in an instant. It was a tremor from deep in their hearts, like a jackdaw in the dark night suddenly facing the dawn, unable to hide its horror. The sharp blades in their hands flashed with a cold metallic luster, swaying in the weak light, as if they also felt the fear of their master, and trembled even more violently.

Their raised arms seemed to be pulled by invisible ropes, stiff and powerless. The blade pointed directly at Edward. It was an instinctive defense, a self-protection in the face of unknown threats. Their cries, like the wail of a night owl, pierced the silent air, full of despair and helplessness. The sound echoed in the empty room, each sound carrying a plea to fate and a venting of fear.

Edward's eyes were as cold as winter ice, solemn and firm. The spear in his hand seemed to be the sword of fate, shining with cold silver light. He only moved slightly, but the force was like a thunderbolt, piercing the darkness in front of him without hesitation. The spear cut through the air, bringing up a sharp arc, like the dawn in the night sky, instantly tearing apart the demon's arrogance.

Facing the two demons, he showed no fear at all, but just swung his spear coldly, with a simple and powerful movement, like wind sweeping fallen leaves, or like a strong wind mowing grass, instantly cutting the demons in half. The tip of the spear was like the sickle of the god of death, precise and ruthless, piercing the demons' hearts, nailing their malice and sins into the abyss.

At this moment, Edward's body was like iron, fearless and unafraid. His figure seemed even taller under the moonlight, and his heroic image was deeply imprinted in the hearts of every witness.

The piercing double screams, like a shrill symphony in the dark night, instantly broke the demons' silent territory. The wails of the two demons were like a dark spell torn apart by a violent storm, shocking every fallen heart around them and making them feel an unusual throbbing. Their pain, echoing in the darkness, was like a death knell, clearly sounding the prelude to Edward's arrival. In all directions, demons woke up from the shadows, and their cold eyes reflected a light that could not be ignored - that was Edward!