Raising a hand brings nuclear explosions, turning a hand summons falling stars. The battles between soldiers with divine powers are more exaggerated than the gods in myths.
"Adam, looks like you're almost out of strength."
In front of Adam, a warrior under Chi You spoke to him.
They were flying over the boundless sea, engaged in a life-and-death struggle, both of them bearing marks of the fight to varying degrees.
"No need to worry about me."
"Let's go again!"
Adam raised the sword entwined with fierce winds in his hand, ready to strike at the enemy in front of him, but was interrupted by a roar from the opponent.
"Wait!"
"Listen to me, I have an important secret to tell you."
"It's about yourself, don't you want to hear it?"
Adam's sword halted, maintaining his posture, looking puzzled at the person in front of him.
Seeing an opportunity, the man immediately continued.
"Adam, you're about to die soon."
"It's well-known that the soldiers of Hannibal are replaced every two years, do you think they all die in battle?"
The man dropped a bombshell.
"What do you mean...?"
Adam's voice trembled.
"Our military has collected the bodies of Hannibal's soldiers, finding that their genes are encoded with a terminal condition."
"So, your army only recruits underage individuals, and when they reach the age of adulthood, they have to die."
Adam furrowed his brow deeply and gripped the sword tightly.
"Why?"
"Do you think you can turn me by saying these irrelevant things?"
Seeing Adam's anger, the man shrugged disdainfully.
"You ask why."
"Isn't it because your children are obedient and easier to control?"
"If you don't believe me, try using your divine powers to create a mechanical kidney."
"Divine powers are almost omnipotent, but a restriction has been set by your country's high-ranking officials, specifically prohibiting the treatment of kidneys."
"Isn't it just to prevent you from curing your terminal condition, so that you won't have time to grow up and die under the agony of the terminal condition?"
Adam fell silent, hesitated for a while, and spoke to the sword in his hand.
"Starcloth, help me create a kidney."
"Starcloth?"
The fierce and brave broadsword, capable of sweeping the heavens and stirring tides, and summoning hurricanes, suddenly weakened like a dog making a mistake, its aura diminishing, even the fierce winds wrapping around it became much weaker.
Seeing his divine powers silent and dejected, Adam was filled with disbelief.
"Is what he said true?"
Adam angrily questioned.
"Sorry, Adam."
"I've had countless owners."
"They all died before the age of 21, without exception."
Starcloth's voice was melancholic, almost admitting to it.
The man in front of Adam, on the other hand, was very pleased. He flew to Adam's side, who looked puzzled, one hand on his hip and the other hanging on Adam's shoulder, smiling.
"You are lucky now," the man said. "If you are willing to be our undercover agent, I will help you escape from this tragic fate. What do you say?" Confused, Adam looked at the man's face, and a glimmer of hope gradually appeared in his bewildered eyes.
