The Great Dream God

Edward's gaze was fixed on that strange scene. Those seemingly weak tentacles, each one was so slender and fragile, as if they would shatter into endless dust with the slightest touch.

However, as these tentacles entwine and intertwine with each other to form a stunning network, their nature changes dramatically.

This change is not a simple superposition, but an incredible fusion like magic, which makes this group of tentacles tougher than the hardest steel, and can even withstand the ravages of wind and rain and the bombardment of thunder and lightning.

His sword, the sharp sword that had cut through the wind and rain and cut through the darkness, now seemed so pale and powerless in front of the indestructible wall of flesh before him.

Every powerful swing was like throwing a stone into a lake, causing only the slightest ripples but unable to shake the wall of flesh in the slightest.

His muscles were taut, veins bulged, and sweat rolled down his forehead, every drop of sweat condensed his determination and strength, and yet the wall of flesh still stood firm, as if it was the strongest barrier in the world, mercilessly mocking his efforts.

His sword danced faster, and the air tore at the tip of his sword, making a whistling sound, but even so, the wall of flesh remained indifferent. Its existence was the most severe test of his will.

Although he felt frustrated, there was no sign of retreat in his eyes. He firmly believed that only by overcoming this insurmountable obstacle could he reach the other side of victory.

Edward hung leisurely in the endless dark abyss, as if he was a projection of the stars, fearless and unconfused. His eyes were deep and cold, shining like the North Star, illuminating the darkness that engulfed everything around him. His sight was firmly fixed on the unreachable distance, where a creepy wall of flesh was quietly rising. This wall was made up of countless squirming sticky tentacles, which twisted and extended in the darkness, like a chaotic poem of life, telling of unknown fear and strangeness. Despite facing such a strange scene, Edward's eyes never wavered. His calmness and tenacity, like an invisible shield, resisted the shock and impact brought by the flesh wall.

That wall of flesh, like a fortress built of fear, stood on his way to his goal. Every muscle was twisted like a nightmare in the middle of the night, making people shudder. Its existence was not only a physical obstacle, but also a severe test of his will, trying to shake his determination. However, his eyes were as firm as the stars, without a flicker of fear. His heartbeat was surging in his chest, like the beating of a war drum, and every beat was announcing his fearlessness. Facing this seemingly insurmountable obstacle, he straightened his spine, clenched his fists, and prepared to break through the wall with courage and perseverance.

He took a deep breath of air slowly, and the clear molecules moved leisurely in every corner of his lungs, like an invisible force stirring in his chest. Air was no longer a simple necessity for survival, but seemed to be endowed with life, carrying his determination and courage. Every breath was like a baptism of the soul, filtering out the noise and doubts of the outside world, leaving only pure tenacity and determination. This breath, like the first ray of sunshine in winter, penetrated the thick clouds and illuminated the deepest corners of his heart. His chest rose and fell with his breathing, and every expansion was like a declaration of war against unknown challenges, and every contraction was like accumulating endless strength.

The sword Edward held tightly was like a ball of blazing flames, burning in the dark night. Every inch of the sword was stained with a bloody glow, a fierce symphony of power and anger. This sword was no longer just the coldness of metal, but a manifestation of the raging waves in his heart. Every flame spoke of his determination and tenacity. The tip of the sword trembled slightly, like the silence before the storm, foreshadowing the coming destruction. The blood-red light jumped in the darkness, like an angry heart, beating violently, igniting the surrounding air and exuding a silent deterrence. Every pattern on the sword was engraved with the memory of the battle, like an ancient rune, awakening the dormant bravery.

The tip of the sword flashed a cold light in the moonlight, like a hot heart, ready to go. With a light flick, the sword energy instantly burst out with unparalleled power, like the lava of a volcano breaking through the earth's crust in an instant, wild and blazing. The bloody sword energy swept across the world like a tornado, containing destructive power, like an angry ancient beast, roaring and tearing through the air, rushing straight towards the solid flesh wall. Every ray of sword energy carried the threat of death, shocking people's hearts, making it impossible to ignore its existence. Under this fierce impact, the air seemed to tremble, foreshadowing the upcoming destructive collision.

In an instant, the solid flesh wall collapsed under the sharp impact of the sword energy, as if a fragile ice sculpture encountered the scorching sun. Countless pieces of flesh were torn into pieces, like withered petals flying in the wind, with a sad and tragic look. The blood mist filled the air, and the fragments danced in the air, like dead leaves in a storm. Although they struggled hard, they could not escape the ruthless tearing, and finally could only fall powerlessly and disappear under the ruthless sword energy.

The sword energy was like a violent storm, indestructible, unstoppable, and like a bamboo breaking momentum, it fiercely pierced into the solid flesh wall, instantly tearing it into pieces, and blood mist filled the air. It did not slow down because of the obstacle, but became sharper in the darkness, like a shining meteor piercing through the night, directly locking onto the volcanic octopus hiding in the abyss. The huge tentacles were ready to move in the shadows, but there was nowhere to escape, and they could only feel the approaching breath of death. The coldness of the sword energy and the fear of the volcanic octopus were intertwined.

The blood-red beam was like a spear tip quenched with poison, instantly piercing through the skull of the behemoth. Its head looked extremely hideous under the light. This beam was like a meteor across the sky, with unstoppable power, fiercely tearing through the darkness and piercing the target. In an instant, the huge head was cut apart, and the sound disappeared in the silent rupture before it could overflow, just like a fragile fruit being lightly slashed by an extremely precise blade. Everything fell apart in the blink of an eye, without the slightest hesitation or struggle. The air was filled with the breath of heat and death. That scene was cruel and beautiful, an ultimate display of power and speed.

Deep in the ocean, a silent battle is taking place. The volcano octopus's body is huge and mysterious, like a shadow fortress under the sea. Suddenly, a sharp sword energy cuts through the dark world like lightning, pointing directly at the core of the volcano octopus.

At that moment, the wound of the volcano octopus was like a torn sky, and a stream of black ink gushed out like a spectacular fountain, stirring in the deep sea like a desperate elegy. The ink was like a dark waterfall, carrying the disappearance of life, spreading in the surrounding water, making the already dark seabed even gloomier. This was its last struggle, and also its last farewell to the world. The wailing sound spread in the water waves, as if telling of endless unwillingness and pain.

As the sword energy penetrated ruthlessly, the head of the volcano octopus was like a ripe watermelon. The moment it could not bear the pressure, it exploded, and the broken limbs splashed in the water, falling into the bottomless abyss with the sparks of life. The once mighty body was now only a piece of drifting debris, which slowly sank and disappeared in the embrace of darkness.

At this moment, the ocean has returned to calm, leaving only the ink-colored afterglow echoing in the darkness, like a sad symphony, telling of the fragility and impermanence of life. Silence once again enveloped the sea, with only the gradually dissipating traces of ink still faintly hinting at the thrilling moment just now.