Chapter 1645: Chapter 1640: Curses and Mathematics

Is such a thing possible?

Fu Qian was well aware of what the prompt meant, just as he knew the reflection in the mirror was not his own.

Something that could duplicate wounds on itself by taking on one’s own face.

Eerie, but not unprecedented, such as the agent brother in the Nightmare of the Fallen Guest.

A force that directly and forcefully reduces one’s SAN Points?

Terrifying, yet not uncommon.

However, knowing about SAN Points, stating them with standard terms, and even making it happen as if by command, is truly terrifyingly intricate.

This trip was indeed worthwhile.

"What should I call you?"

Though having lost two lives, Fu Qian did not rush into action, but remained standing to communicate verbally.

"Hehehe..."

Unfortunately, the person in the mirror maintained some habits of being pretentious.

Not only did it not respond to Fu Qian’s question, it even raised its right hand almost to touch the mirror.

"You don’t need them, do you?"

Two orbs still connected with nerve cords slightly rolled with the gesture, just in time to gaze at this side.

Although the resolution wasn’t high, the work was shoddy.

Fu Qian lowered his head, meeting eyes, silently commenting.

Like the previous self-mutilation, this act of gouging out eyes, though it did not pull out his corresponding eyes, was not without effect.

The moment they were pulled out, his optic nerves seemed to short-circuit.

Even now, his stubborn regenerative abilities only allowed the visual signal to come intermittently, the image constantly snowing.

Nonetheless, even so, Fu Qian still noticed the crudeness in many places.

Clearly, the angle and force were not well controlled, evident in the damage to the eyeballs themselves and the messy, disordered nerves.

With such a display of an obvious lack of craftsmanlike foundation, Fu Qian couldn’t be bothered to correct or guide.

"Can’t speak human language, can you?"

With a cold snort, a strange short stick, dull gold, forearm-length, and scarred, appeared in his right hand, also raised like the other.

It seemed that in the next moment it would be swung to smash the flawless mirror.

Yet Fu Qian wouldn’t stoop to such a crude action.

He didn’t swing it but kept it raised—

"Avada, Keda Wula—"

Within the venomous spell, a Frost Spear, ten times colder than the surrounding chill, howled out.

...

Ice Crystal bloomed.

At that moment, only such words could describe the scene before the eyes.

The Frost Demigod, the Decree Residue Swindler, the Fate Diviner; Lord Grimshaw, transformed bell into staff and personally launched the legendary forbidden strike, supplemented by ancient spells, crashing onto the silhouette in the mirror almost instantaneously.

As expected, instead of being intangible and piercing through, it was impenetrable.

The seemingly fragile mirror bore this terrific strike immovably.

And in the instant of contact, the Ice Crystal Spear shattered inch by inch, scattering death and frost, sweeping around.

Hmph!

Standing with hands behind, the severely injured Fu Qian, maintaining posture, after one strike did not move again, watching the scene beneath the white frost.

Even though he could no longer see that sightless version of himself, he had no intention of leaving.

"You truly... are utterly devoid of humor..."

Not disappointing, after several breaths, a figure clad in gold and white robes, as if from an infinite distance, stepped in front of him again.

Still tall, still poised, but unlike before, the glorious and divine aura magnified incomprehensibly.

Even to Fu Qian now, it exerted a spiritual impact.

It wasn’t just a pure mental sensation anymore.

Accompanied by a gentle, ethereal, no longer deliberately mimicking his own voice, he could see behind the towering figure, a radiant aura swirling and converging, forming light wings stretching several meters, like a Saint favored by Divine Beings.

This wasn’t all of the transformation; under the heavy, solemn hood, not only had his face disappeared, but now there was no face at all, only an equally inscrutable radiance.

"Full of lies, sins beyond measure!"

Yet facing that unviewable face, Fu Qian pointed his bell staff directly at its head, physically responding to the absurd remark of lacking humor.

"Hehe... you’ll soon realize you’re no different, just more fragile..."

His response was another cold laugh and a meaningful comment.

"SAN Points decreased—"

And without giving more time to think, in the next moment, the other figure uttered a familiar phrase, simultaneously reaching an arm, fingers grasping at Fu Qian’s head in the void.

"1 plus 1."

However, this time there was a slight innovation, performing addition.

[SAN Points decrease by 2]

It proved Fu Qian’s side was equally quick in providing a response.

The moment before the voided hand closed, that familiar prompt indeed rang in his ear.

And by the end of the prompt, the figure beneath the dissipating white frost had vanished again.

...

More fragile... indeed not wrong before, this trip has been quite fruitful.

The mathematical test abruptly ceased, yet Fu Qian showed no sign of disappointment, finally retracting the bell staff, and reflecting on the opponent’s final words.

The mirror Saint’s methods to test his fragility seemed only twofold—carving flesh and decreasing SAN Points.

Considering the former yielded minimal effect, it was obvious what the alleged greater fragility referred to.

Not to mention, the latter executing was already enunciated twice with proper pronunciation.

It seemed hard not to draw one conclusion — the Saint knew about the Administrator’s existence, even in considerable detail.

Another predecessor?

If so, this form of existence is even more ostentatious, full of the feeling of belonging to High Tier Heaven.

Simultaneously, that glorious aura was hard not to link to his Decree Residue.

Further proving that the various anomalies here have a substantial connection to that tree.

Nevertheless, whatever the connection with the tree, the stance towards himself was clearly shown—it was distinctly hostile.

And apparently, the existence of SAN Points gave him an additional means of attack, even as irresistible as spell-bound remarks.

As to why, when the situation looked so dire, he remained unperturbed—

An addition of one plus one, what of it, dare to handle arithmetic beyond ten.

Even if confined to this age’s mix, what’s there to fear?

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