婆罗门
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战斗力 鹅
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注册时间 2008-2-8
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本帖最后由 goddess 于 2014-3-2 02:59 编辑
一开始是,然后约格莫夫不爽了,说克撒你要再用这种自己躲在后面的玩法我就亲自废了多明纳里亚,于是克撒直接动手干死了杰拉尔德
Now Urza would fight. He would risk all and conquer.
Hands that a moment before had held only cascading sand now held a great battle axe, a weapon without peer. Its broad, double-sided head had the weight of a maul and the edge of a razor. The metal haft bristled with killing spikes. An identical, double-sided blade jutted from its butt. Grasping the center of the metal haft, Urza spun the blade easily. In moments, it had reached the velocity of a rotor on a Tolarian helionaut.
Urza advanced. Hand over hand, he whirled the blade above his head. To its spinning song, he added his voice, a staccato recitative, "Gerrard. I created you. I preserved you. I will destroy you. You are the offspring of a thought—an errant and hopeless thought. Thought cannot best the thinker."
Gerrard smiled only the more strongly. "Thought can best a mad thinker." His swords grew to other implements—a great shield in his left hand and a great sword in his right. He planted his feet, unwilling to give the old man an inch. "I've been waiting for this all my life."
"So have I," replied Urza. "All four thousand years."
Two strides brought the heads of his axe into lethal range. The spinning weapon clove the air. It reached for Gerrard. Despite himself, Gerrard withdrew another step.
He lifted the shield. It was a massive thing. It would have stopped a bull at full charge, bending the horns back.
Urza Planeswalker was no bull. His mind strengthened the axe blades to adamantine and gave them the weight of an avalanche. He made Gerrard's shield as soft as wax.
The axe sliced deeply through the shield. Metal bloomed from either side of the blade. The axe cleft Gerrard's left hand. Nerveless, he dropped his shield. It tumbled, riven, to the ground.
Gerrard fell back a second step. He certainly had not planned on that. He brought his sword up in sudden hopelessness.
The second axe blade struck. It caught Gerrard's great sword just above the crosspiece and clove through. A sixfoot blade was shorn to six inches. In its follow-through, the axe came about again. The head that had cleft Gerrard's shield struck the pommel and hurled it away from his grasp. He took a third step back, bleeding hands flung out to his sides.
The fourth and final stroke came violently. The axe hit Gerrard's chest. Razor steel chopped through the leather tunic he wore, through the cloth beneath it and the skin beneath that. It cleft the sternum as if it were the wishbone of a game hen. The blade continued on, bisecting the left lung and the heart ensconced there. At last, the edge lodged itself in the young man's spine.
Gerrard hung for an incredulous moment on the blade. Then, tipping off his heels, he fell to his back. Urza's weapon went with him, stuck in vertebrae.
Urza towered above his offspring. It all had come to this: the death of Gerrard. In him, Urza had slain every false impulse, every chronic mistake that had pitted him against Yawgmoth. The axe remained in Gerrard's chest even as blood poured in twin rivers down his sides.
Releasing the metallic haft, Urza knelt beside the fallen man. He lifted Gerrard's head from the sand. He cradled him, uncertain whether this was the posture of a hunter with a prized kill or a father with a long-lost son.
"You have won," Gerrard said weakly through bloodlimned lips. "You were right all along, and in the end you won."
然后约格莫夫又不爽了说你都赢了怎么还能在那哭呢,重来重来,然后下次克撒就被弄死了……
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