Em DanMachi, Começo com Template de Alma de Espada
Transmigrando para o mundo de DanMachi, Liang Yue foi infectado pela Praga de Kazan com um início catastrófico, mas inesperadamente desbloqueou o modelo de Espadachim Espiritual de Dungeon Fighter Online. A cidade labirinto de Orario tem uma masmorra. Como antigo guerreiro dos 8 milhões da masmorra, era bem razoável ter o modelo de Espadachim Espiritual, certo? Aceitando a realidade de transmigrar para um mundo estranho, após ser resgatado pela deusa que se autodenominava Hestia e se juntar à Familia, a sede de Liang Yue por aperfeiçoar a espada só aumentava. "Quem não treina na juventude, recua com corte de espada?" Levar a esgrima ao extremo para dar 25% de dano extra aos aliados? Sem lógica! Empunhando a espada interior, mais afiada que o aço, escalando até o estado de ausência de ego, alcançando o Supremo·Espadachim Espiritual, trilhando o caminho final da espada. Liang Yue é a verdade da espada. Todas as coisas são espadas em suas mãos, deslizando sem sombra pelo Palácio do Vazio!... Na batalha final, diante do Dragão Negro invencível, as diversas Familias de Orario escolheram se unir, elaborando planos de batalha minuciosos. A intenção de espada invisível de Liang Yue, porém, atravessou os céus, sua figura imponente erguendo-se entre o céu e a terra. "Dragão Negro?" "A sua barra de vida é mais grossa que a de Anton?"
Em DanMachi, Começo com Template de Alma de Espada
Labyrinth City, Orario.
At the heart of the city, the towering Babel stood, scraping the sky. The streets of Orario radiated outward, dividing the city into eight distinct districts.
Yet, in the impoverished eastern quarter, desolation reigned in sharp contrast to the city’s bustling prosperity.
Collapsed houses were a common sight; moss-covered stone roads stretched ahead, and weeds nearly as tall as a person lined the paths, all testifying to the area’s decline.
In front of a long-abandoned church plaza, a slender boy stood alone beneath the blazing sun, ceaselessly swinging an iron sword in repetitive practice.
His clothes were soaked through with sweat as he drilled the most basic sword techniques—slash, thrust, cleave, raise...
With each swing of the iron blade, his frail figure seemed as if it might topple at any moment, but what drew the eye most was his left arm.
His skin shimmered with an unnatural pallor, streaked with eerie, prominent veins visible in the sunlight, as though afflicted by some monstrous plague.
The demonic, distorted hand had nearly spread to his shoulder, halted only by a heavy iron shackle, reinforced with chains at its end.
Without the restraining device, one could hardly imagine to what extent the affliction might have consumed him.
It was less a shackle for disease than a seal for some unspoken, dreadful existence.
Finishing his monotonous sword drills, Liang Yue exhaled a long, weary breath. Fatigue urged him to rest, yet when his focus was wholly on the path of the sword,
📚 Related Recommendations
View More >
![A Princesa Feudal Atravessa para os Anos 70 e Finge Ser Pobre e Preguiçosa [Espaço]](https://gdapi.naijabookhub365.com/Super/public/uploads/covers/novel_gen_18394.png)
