The Great Dream God

They rushed towards Edward like a hurricane, their bodies flashing with endless anger and determination, like cheetahs in the dark night, each leap carrying the force of thunder. Their eyes were blazing, like lava erupting, vowing to destroy all obstacles in front of them, the impact of that moment was enough to shake the world, and make the air tremble in their fury.

Edward did not flinch in the face of this surging enemy. He resolutely jumped into the vast sea of ​​demons, like a meteorite falling into the center of a lake, stirring up thousands of waves. His sword danced like summer lightning, and every swing was extremely accurate, hitting the heart of the demon. Each blow was accompanied by the demon's wailing, and their figures fell under Edward's sword one after another, like a lawn mower passing over a field, and the lives of the demons withered in an instant.

In the shadowy abyss, several demons with strange figures emerged from the void, with cold and tough chains wrapped around their waists, which were symbols of bondage and confinement, shining with a deep dark light. They pulled the chains out from their waists without hesitation, their movements smooth as poetry, as if they were performing an evil symphony. The chains drew arcs in the air, as agile as a venomous snake, with endless malice and coldness, and rushed straight towards the brave man named Edward.

Edward faced this sudden attack with an unyielding light in his eyes. However, the demonic chains seemed to have life, instantly wrapping around his body, each link tightly entangling his flesh, like cold tentacles, ruthlessly depriving him of his freedom of movement. His body was stiff under the restraint of the chains, and every struggle only made the chains stronger, as if he was trapped in a dark dream that he could not escape. The coldness and hardness of the chains became an insurmountable obstacle on his way forward, temporarily sealing his bravery and strength in this dark cage.

In the territory of chaos and haze, several demons suddenly jumped out of the shadows like ghosts in the night, holding their spears tightly and flashing cold light, pointing directly at the brave and fearless warrior-Edward. Their movements were as swift as thunder, and each spear was like a poisonous snake spitting out its tongue, ruthlessly aiming at the vital part of Edward's abdomen, as if to tear the fire of his life in one fell swoop. The demons' eyes burned with wild malice, and their figures twisted in the wind, like messengers of hell, approaching with the breath of death. The tip of the spear drew dangerous arcs in the air, and every tremor was accompanied by the low hum of death, like a symphony composed of metal and malice, playing in Edward's ears.

At that moment, it was like a sad symphony of death suddenly sounded. Four or five cold spears, like poisonous snakes in the dark night, suddenly pounced on Edward's core. They pierced his abdomen mercilessly, and every inch of the iron was accompanied by the trembling of the soul, as if mocking the power of life. Edward's body was instantly torn apart by this ruthless impact, and bright red blood flowed out of his mouth like a flood, staining his once fearless face red. That was the color of life, but also the mark of death.

His abdomen was pierced, his intestines were torn like broken silk threads, the tragic scene was unbearable to watch. A painful wail came out from the depths of Edward's throat, the sound was like a sad song in the wind, echoing in the empty battlefield, shaking the hearts of everyone present. His body spasmed, and every twitch was a painful cry for the passing of life, it was an unspeakable pain, a struggle at the junction of life and death.

Despite the scars, Edward's eyes still burned with an unyielding flame, his life swayed in pain, but never extinguished. This is a cruel picture, a tragic poem of a hero struggling in the darkness, and Edward's name will be forever engraved in this bloody memory.

He suddenly let out a roar that shook the valley, like thunder exploding in the abyss. The force instantly broke through the heavy chains that bound him. The clanging sound of the broken chains echoed in the air, like a prelude to victory. His body was as wild as a lion, and he threw himself into the vortex of battle without fear, engaging in a fierce duel with the purple demons from the dark abyss.

The demons were wearing dreamy purple armor, each piece of armor was inlaid with mysterious runes, like stars in the dark night, flashing a frightening and strange luster. Their eyes were cold and deep, like polar ice, freezing time and hope, staring straight at Edward, with endless indifference and cruelty flowing in their pupils.

The weapons in his hands were either the extremely sharp spears with the poisoned spikes on the tip flashing a cold light in the moonlight; or the heavy swords with the magic patterns flowing on the swords moving like living things. Every swing was accompanied by the low groan of death, like black lightning, tearing through the air and pointing directly at Edward's heart.

The flashes of swords and sabers intertwined, like a meteor shower dancing wildly in the endless night sky. Every collision produced a fiery spark, illuminating the darkness, and the blazing light reflected the cruelty of the battlefield. Those sparks were like bright gems, short-lived and dazzling, they bloomed in the air and disappeared in an instant.

Edward's muscles were tense in the battle, and every inch of his skin was burning with endless fighting spirit. His sword danced like the wind, and every block and counterattack was extremely accurate, like an eagle swooping down on its prey, brave and fierce. His figure shuttled through the siege of the demons, like a fallen leaf in the wind, seemingly fragile but elusive.

Under Edward's control, the spear that flashed with a biting cold light was like a dance of thunder, as fast as lightning and as fierce as a hurricane.

Every fierce swing was accompanied by the demons' terrified cries, as if a symphony of death was being played on the dark battlefield.

He stood in the raging tide of the battle, like an immovable fortress that no one could shake, and he ruthlessly cut those hideous and roaring demons into pieces one by one. Their flesh and blood flew like rain, and the evil spirits trembled under the flashing light of the spear tips and fled everywhere. In the shattered darkness, his brave figure was like the dawning light, extremely clear.

The smoke of battle filled the air, and the demons' roars and screams intertwined into a symphony of death. Although they were fierce, they seemed so fragile in front of Edward's bravery. Every shot was a judgment on evil, and every breath was a persistence in life. However, even a steel-like will could not withstand the endless consumption of battle. Edward gasped for breath, his chest heaving violently, as if every breath was racing against time, and his sweat was like falling stars, sprinkled on the blood-stained land.

Physical fatigue was like a heavy shackle that bound his surging fighting spirit. He could feel the flame of life slowly dying out, like the afterglow of the setting sun, weak but firm.