The Divine Armor of the Old Century（Book 1）

Chapter 171

The known truths have all been erased; the logical world has completely collapsed.

Lloyd felt as if he were in a constant free fall, shattering one world after another, from the streets of Old Dunling to the boundless ocean, until everything descended into eerie darkness.

This was a world of the mind, born from the struggle between two consciousnesses.

Rage clouded Lloyd's thoughts. How could a blade of metal possibly sever a consciousness? Let alone when everything was based on the foundation of the mind.

Lloyd let out an angry growl. He was so close, so close to completely killing Dean Lawrence. Pouring all his hatred into the effort, he calmed himself, observing the darkness before him.

Rationality. Keep rationality.

After the fury came a sobering fear. His consciousness was now intertwined with Dean Lawrence's. As he influenced Lawrence, Lawrence was also influencing him.

"Watson!"

Lloyd called out. In the midst of the battle in the [Gap], he was clueless. His only hope now lay in that strange pseudo-Holy Grail.

But there was no response. In the pitch-black void, only Lloyd's own voice echoed, as if he were at the bottom of a deep well, unnoticed by anyone.

"Watson!"

Lloyd roared again. He had struck a deal with Watson; she would help him kill Dean Lawrence. But now, she no longer responded to his calls.

Staring into the darkness, a sense of helplessness washed over him. No one answered, like a child crying out on their own, uncared for.

After a long silence, Lloyd let out a cold laugh.

Sure enough, such eerie entities are never to be trusted!

Lloyd felt frustrated, but then that damn analogy rose in his mind again.

Perhaps Watson was still honoring their agreement, but from her perspective, the terms were somewhat unique.

Yes, in Watson's analogy, she was the human, and he was just a pitiable ant. How could a humble ant see the world of a human?

A subtle noise echoed in his ears, like hundreds of snakes slithering, their cold scales rubbing together to produce a faint but chilling sound.

With no objects for reference, Lloyd wasn't even sure how much time had passed here. It could have been days, or it might have been just minutes. In absolute darkness, human will is fragile.

Perhaps those who had undergone prefrontal lobotomies faced such a world.

Nothing could get out, and no one could get in. Only desperate cries echoed in this bizarre darkness.

No... this isn't right.

Lloyd seemed to realize something. He looked into the darkness, his once confused eyes growing firm, like a piece of stubborn rock.

"This is the world of the mind," he declared, his voice like thunder.

Thus, cracks appeared in the darkness, emitting light, and then everything completely shattered.

Behind the black curtain stood the familiar Dean Lawrence, who watched Lloyd and clapped lightly.

"You learn quickly, child."

It was still the same desolate battlefield, but as if time had flowed backward, the traces of previous battles had disappeared, just like Lloyd's [Gap]. No matter how much destruction occurred, upon his return, there would always be that damned bench standing alone in the icy wilderness.