pjbooks Chapter 59 This person, he's seen him before!
Chapter 59 This person, he's seen him before!
The chat in the live stream fell completely silent at that moment.
The dark golden sphere was slowly flying towards Zhou Tiance.
Its speed was so slow that everyone could clearly see its trajectory—dark golden patterns flowed across the surface of the sphere, like a star compressed to its limit, radiating a suffocating sense of oppression. It passed through the ice crystal particles floating in the void, those ice crystals evaporating the moment they approached it, not even having time to melt, directly transforming from solid to nothingness.
Zhou Tianze lay in the void, watching the sphere fly towards him.
His chest still ached. The Thirteenth Apostle's palm strike had shattered his third and fourth ribs on the left side, and the broken bone fragments had pierced his lungs. Each breath felt like someone was churning his chest cavity with a red-hot iron rod. He had lost feeling in his right arm below the elbow.
He should be afraid.
The energy within that sphere was enough to erase him from existence itself.
But he was not afraid.
He just felt very tired.
Fifty years. He lived for fifty years, fought for forty years, killed tens of thousands of apostles, and suffered countless wounds. He lost comrades, his left eye, and countless young people who thought they would return alive. He believed himself to be humanity's shield, an insurmountable wall before the apostles.
Now he knows.
He was not a wall. He was merely a brick at the base of the wall. The apostle could crush him without even exerting force—simply take a step and fall, that was all.
"Tian Ce!"
Ye Wuhen's voice came from afar, hoarse and urgent. It was the first time in the thirty years Zhou Tianze had known him that he had felt an emotion called despair. It was the first time someone who had never believed in the word "despair" had touched its edge.
Ye Wuhen moved.
The veins on his sword-wielding hand bulged, and he transformed into a streak of silver-gray light, rushing towards the dark golden sphere. His speed was unbelievable—faster than any of his previous sword strikes, so fast that even Luo Qinghe could only see a blur.
He was going to block it.
Block with a sword, block with your body, block with your life.
He rushed to the front of the sphere, gripping his sword with both hands, the blade held horizontally in front of him. Amber light flashed wildly on the blade—it wasn't "Return to One," but something more primal and violent. It was all the spiritual power within him burning recklessly, his fifty years of swordsmanship being squeezed to its limit at this moment, his very life being transformed into power.
"Open it!!!"
The sword blade struck the sphere.
There was no explosion. There was no loud noise.
The amber and dark gold lights collided, producing a sound. The sound wasn't loud, but it pierced through the void, through the live broadcast signal, and through the soul of every viewer.
Ye Wuhen's sword blade pierced into the sphere.
About half an inch.
Then, the blade shattered.
Ye Wuhen gripped the sword hilt with both hands, watching the blade shatter before his eyes, watching the sphere continue its advance, and watching how all his efforts could only slow it down for less than half a second.
The sphere passed him.
Continue flying towards Zhou Tianze.
Luo Qinghe knelt in the void, her right arm frozen in ice, her left arm hanging limply at her side. She watched the sphere fly past Ye Wuhen and towards Zhou Tiance, watching her two comrades-in-arms about to die before her eyes.
She opened her mouth.
She remembered what Zhou Tianze looked like ten years ago when he emerged alive from the Seventh Apostle Hall. He had lost an eye, was covered in blood, and his clothes were tattered like rags, but he was laughing. He stood at the entrance of the Apostle Hall, laughing heartily at the snow-capped mountains and the sky, laughing boldly, laughing wildly, laughing like a madman.
"I made it out alive! Hahaha!"
She remembered that laughter for ten years.
She didn't want to remember how he died.
But she had no choice but to watch.
Zhou Tianze watched as the sphere drew closer and closer.
Ten meters. Five meters. Three meters. One meter.
The dark golden light shone on his face, turning his short, silver-white hair golden and making his scarred chest appear as if it were plated with gold. The sphere was reflected in the pupil of his right eye, while the prosthetic eye in his left eye refracted a cold light under the bright light.
He remembered many things.
I remembered the excitement of holding a short spear for the first time when I was twenty, the pride of slaying an apostle for the first time when I was thirty, the pain of losing my left eye when I was forty, and the confidence I had when I stood outside the Apostle's Temple three days ago and said "We will win" to the camera.
We will win.
He genuinely believed he would win.
He closed his eyes.
Then, everything stopped.
The dark golden sphere stopped less than a foot away from Zhou Tianze's chest.
It hovered in mid-air, no longer moving forward or rotating, the dark gold patterns flowing across its surface ceasing to move, like a planet whose pause button had been pressed. That destructive power, enough to tear the entire void apart, was silently and effortlessly suppressed by some higher-level being.
Zhou Tianze waited for a long time.
The expected death did not come.
He opened his eyes.
Then, he saw that person.
There was now another person between Zhou Tianze and the sphere.
He was wearing a school uniform. The Jiangzhou Academy uniform: a dark blue jacket, a white lining, and the academy's emblem embroidered on the chest. The uniform was spotless, without wrinkles or dust, not even a single extra button. He stood in mid-air, with no foothold, yet he stood firmly, as if there were an invisible ground beneath his feet.
His right hand was raised, his index and middle fingers joined together, the tips touching the dark gold sphere.
Those two fingers were what stopped the power that could have destroyed everything.
Zhou Tianze's pupils suddenly contracted.
He recognized the face.
Jiang Chen...
That incapacitated person who caused a national sensation not long ago!!
Although Ye Wuhen and the others had arrived at this place to prepare for the challenge of the Thirteenth Apostle Hall long before Jiang Chen's awakening day, they still paid attention to some news, such as the birth of the first powerless person in human history, a boy named Jiang Chen. At that time, they were very surprised, as this was the first time for humans.
Ye Wuhen had noticed this guy back then. After all, the first person without ability might be a waste, but it was also possible that he possessed absolute power that others could not control. So he thought that if he had the chance to go back, he would definitely meet Jiang Chen.
The next time I heard this name was a few days ago when the capital fell to the Japanese.
Black ice flowers descended upon the world once more, and tens of thousands of apostles flooded into the capital. Just when despair was about to strike, it was Jiang Chen who saved everyone.
When Ye Wuhen and the other two heard the news, they were all shocked. However, because they were away from home, they could not know the specific details. But they were full of curiosity about Jiang Chen. And now, this boy they had only heard about was actually standing in front of them.