Serious People, Who is Learning Magic at Marvel?

Weakness is like a shadow.

It was a special feeling, and Steve had to admit that he did suffer.

Fighting the demons of Nurgle in the illusion is not an easy task, and he is somewhat aware that this is not an illusion.

Absolutely not.

His eyes might deceive him, and the feedback from the fiery sword on the demons might deceive him, but not psionics. From psionic power, Steve truly understood that this was no longer the world he knew, but a world made up of pure malice. Here, there is nothing but him and the evil.

"All right."

Steve coughed, and flames rose from his throat, scorching the area there, clearing the existing blight. It also made his breathing easier.

He thought that the barrier built by the flames could keep the plague out, but he never thought that they were really pervasive-after he killed the demon, the other party's corpse turned into some kind of sticky substance, even sticking to it. On the blade made of flames, the resulting virus entered his lungs in the air.

By the time Steve noticed, it was too late. He was a little dissatisfied with this, dissatisfied with his own carelessness. But he would not be swayed by this emotion in the battle, so he transformed this dissatisfaction into a more intense and deep fighting spirit, and began to slaughter those Nurgle demons more fiercely.

Steve's swordsmanship is unpretentious, not as 'dazzling' as his fighting skills, and the way he wields the blade is neither elegant nor very dazzling. In fact, many Nurgle demons are often pierced in the head or heart by a sword without even seeing how he made a move, and then they are burned to ashes by the blazing flames.

This is also the fighting creed he believes in - the existence of technology is to make better use of power, and power is to make up for the lack of technology to some extent. Yi Li Jiang Shi Hui and Si Liang Po Qian Jin both exist, and when the two are combined, a new thing will be born.

This is what he learned during that trip to the ancient eastern country, and it was from that moment that Steve began to understand one thing.

Swinging a fist, swinging a sword, pulling the trigger... How to stabilize the lower plate while swinging the sword, how to control the shaking of the gun, all these can actually be attributed to how to kill more efficiently. So, his mentality changed.

Just like what he's doing now.

Steve held the Flaming Sword in one hand, and his other hand turned the golden fiery psionic energy into a flaming whip that could be held.

With a random flick, several Nurgle demons were easily choked in half, and they died before they saw a flash of golden light.

But it wasn't over yet, their corpses slowly melted under the burning flames. Steve ingeniously used psionic power to bury a time bomb in their corpses—those born from their corpses, the nurglings responsible for tipping off and harassing him on the battlefield, would unconsciously turn these invisible Bring back the psionic bomb.

Then.

He smiled a little and stopped suddenly. A Nurgle demon standing opposite him looked at him suspiciously, but his spell casting was not slow at all. It spewed several maggots from its mouth. They melted into the ground, turning the ground beneath Steve's feet into wet, sinking dirt, his weight dragging him downward.

Steve didn't do anything but looked at the fat face of the ugly monster mockingly, then raised his left hand. The middle finger and thumb came together, and a crisp sound echoed here. A violent explosion suddenly came from the demon's abdomen, it lowered its head, and its dull brain seemed to be unable to understand what was happening now.

However, it doesn't need to understand anything anymore. Steve just needed it to die right away—thousands of nurglings with psionic bombs exploded together, clearing an empty space around him. Their corpses fell to the ground, and the golden flames continued to burn. The etheric flesh of demons is the best fuel for the flames. It will continue to burn for a long time until all the demons die.

"Cough." Steve coughed again, for him without a helmet. The strong, pungent smell of burning hundreds of Nurgle demons at the same time was really irritating. He was able to psychically 'see' the invisible infectious diseases floating in the air trying to get close to him, so Steve knew that Nurgle had not turned her gaze away from him.

No, not right.

As keen as he felt the gentle gaze immediately - for a moment, there was only darkness left here.

"Did you feel it?" a voiceless voice said.

She sounded like the wriggling of maggots, the death of life and the first cry of a newborn. In short, that is not a voice that humans should hear and hear.

"The Age of Rebirth"

As early as the first moment the sound appeared, Steve shattered his eardrums, and at the same time clenched the sword of flames, and his spiritual energy burned from his body without reservation. He tried his best to resist the great threat that might be coming, without letting up his vigilance. However, the attack disappeared.

It was dark all around, and the corpses of the Nurgle demons disappeared. A sigh sounded.

"Ah, they're all good kids...just a pity they're not very flexible. People like you should take a softer approach. They should show you the true colors of the people you serve. instead of fighting you roughly."

She said sadly, "In the end, you are just throwing swords at each other."

I can still hear her... Steve thought.

Pain is back. He roared uncontrollably, not out of anger, but out of pain—as if a thousand knives covered in barbs were cutting through his body at the same time, as if someone was burning his skin with flames of. However, in contrast, his bones seemed to be soaked in the coldest abyss.

It was bone-chilling, so cold that his teeth were shaking. Steve fell to his knees feebly, but still didn't lower his head. His brain was sending him a false vision—falling.

I'm falling, falling endlessly.

The voice is back. At the same time, the ground began to wriggle. The nascent branches lifted him up, and a green cloud floated across the sky. The voice said, "I'd love to forgive you, child. But I can't. My dead children need a repayment, an account. You've killed too many here. And I'm blinded by the cursed one. …”

She laughed: "He has always been like this, playing tricks and tricks, but still has some so-called humanity in his heart. He is neither completely lost in battle like the red madman, nor like the croaking bird. Calculating anything without a bottom line. Sad, sad. But he did a great job this time."

"I didn't see the situation on that planet clearly..." she said rather humorously. "I lost, well, that's true. You can be thankful. It's a pity that you shouldn't see the scene where you guys won."

Steve couldn't answer her, he wanted to, but he couldn't.

Pain attacked him on every level, and at this moment, Steve Rogers suddenly realized something. So far, every enemy he has encountered has wanted to kill him, to kill him—but Nurgle was different.

She didn't want to kill him, on the contrary, she wanted him to be 'reborn'. Reborn into a look that he absolutely cannot accept.

rebirth.

These two words echoed in his heart, causing ripples of fear. Nurgle's laughter still echoed in his ears: "Yeah, it looks like you've figured it out. Killing is not my thing, and I don't want to kill you, boy. It doesn't make any sense, I just want you to feel it. , and experience the reality of this dark galaxy first-hand. In this way, you will understand who is right."

Steve didn't listen to her, he just tried his best to dig deep inside himself, trying to find a corner that wasn't filled with pain. I don't know how long it took, as if the person who was thrown into the sea was finally unable to withstand drowning because of exhaustion, he found it.

The Emperor stood before him.

The Emperor he had seen for the first time, a frail, scrawny old man. Like a skeleton, he was looking at him with pity.

Then there was a warrior in golden armor who looked like a god. He was incomparably tall, holding a gorgeous sword in his hand, and looked at him coldly.

A skeleton-like corpse... The empty eye sockets also looked at him.

a king.

a lunatic.

A delusional person.

A child crying holding his father's skull.

A man who wants to allow all human beings to live freely.

A preaching pastor.

A scientist who hates religion.

A... dark shadow.

Steve looked at them blankly, and then the old man spoke. Light and anger filled his body at this moment, the golden light that burned his soul, and the endless rage and hatred made Steve wake up in an instant.

"Steve."

The voice came out of his mouth, but it was not any known language, but a concept. Any creature could understand what he wanted to say the moment he heard the voice.

The old man looked at him, the warrior looked at him, the king looked at him, the lunatic, the delusional man, the child, the priest, the scientist, the dark shadow—innumerable people, they all looked at him.

"Steve Rogers."

The roaring storm began to echo in his ears, and Steve howled helplessly, like a wounded beast, in the planet-destroying rain. His heart ached at that moment, like the day Carter died—and then suddenly he calmed down. A dying sun floated before his eyes.

Thousands, tens of thousands, and countless consciousnesses echoed in his mind, speaking their own words and issuing their own orders. Never stop, reverberate, reverberate. The endless reverberation, the many and terrifying futures played out in front of Steve one by one.

Steve, who was kneeling on the ground, suddenly raised his head.

The old man said, "Stand up."

The next second, endless light burst out from his body.

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