[A few minutes later, you feel tremendous pressure being exerted on your body.
“Die, slave of the Goliath,” you hear someone cry out.]
Lem’s simulated self was filled with absolute horror. Every instinct in his body told him that he would die if he remained in place.
He tried to call out, but his mouth was frozen. He tried to move his body, but it remained locked and unresponsive.
He urged his feet with all of his will, but the invisible force was unrelenting, carrying a feeling that it was impossible to overcome.
Should he resign himself to his fate?
Just when Lem was sure that death was inevitable, he felt a sudden shift in strategy from his simulated self.
Pushed to the extreme by his circumstances, he was trying desperately to punch out with the [Nine Bull Fist]. He had no target in mind, he was only trying to break through the force that was seizing him so he could jump out of the way of whatever was coming.
[You feel a premonition of death, but you are frozen in place. You try to harness the feeling from the [Nine Bull Fist], not to attack, but merely to move out of the way.]
Time seemed to slow down.
Lem could feel all of his sensations suddenly heighten, as his body tried to move according to the motions of the [Nine Bull Fist].
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He felt incredible friction all over his skin, like he was being squeezed through a narrow space.
Pop! The pressure vanished, and the invisible grip was suddenly broken apart.
In a jolt, his fist extended, bringing his body along with it, as he leapt forward.
A split second later…
Whishhh-BOOM!
He heard a keen whistle followed by the intense sensation of heat coming from behind him.
A warm draft pushed up beneath him like an enormous pillow. His body was carried a few meters higher and he was flung forward through the forest.
His head narrowly missed a tree while numerous branches broke against his flying body.
Crack-crack-crack!
Lem’s simulated self landed in a heap on the road. He could not tell who had targeted him, or where they were, but he was sure he would not survive the second attack.
[Somehow, you managed to burst out of your feeling of paralysis. Behind you, you feel an enormous explosion, and you are pushed forward.]
“I have information about a treasure,” he screamed out, taking advantage of his sudden freedom of movement.
He expected to be killed in the next moment, as he remained sprawled out in an ungainly position.
The air was still. No force acted on him.
He heard the sound of footsteps, but, surprisingly, no attack came.
“Look at me,” a powerful voice commanded.
Lem’s simulated self turned around.
At the forest line, walking with the aura of a king, there was a bearded man in crimson robes. His lapel had three distinctive overlapping triangles.
“Tell me about this treasure,” the cultivator said. His eyes appeared hazy, and yet they were trained on him like a hawk.
He did not raise his voice, but it felt like it was echoing through Lem’s ears. The implication of his words was obvious.
Tell me about this treasure…
…or die!