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Song Qingshu's favorite time to arrange the killing weapon of Hell Terrace into the arena.

All of this was felt transparently by Mo Yejia, and there was nothing to hide.

So Mo Xiejia could play the Hell Terrace of Song Qingshu.

And without having to go downstairs, Song Qingshu was very embarrassed.

It can be said.

Today, he and Song Qingshu have understood each other too much.

Knowing that all the tactics of conspiracy and trickery have lost too much meaning.

Song Qingshu's realm cultivation level and even his techniques are openly exposed under the sky and sunlight.

Therefore, the bureau that Mo Xiejia arranged for Song Qingshu can only be the Ming bureau, and everything can be calculated.

A few words of his own made Song Qingshu consume his own mental power, making his power no longer.

And under the continuous attack of hundreds of ink soldiers who are not afraid of life and death.

No matter how powerful Ning Que's mental power was, it would inevitably be gradually consumed.

No matter how cautious Song Qingshu is, loopholes will eventually be revealed.

Mo Yejia's face was hit by the occasional cracks in the cloud.

The quiet moonlight gave Mo Xie Jia's elegant face a little light.

Under the embellishment of the light marks, Mo Xie Jia Wenya's face suddenly became a little inexplicably hideous.

He watched the battle scenes in Xiongcheng quietly and intently.

Watching Song Qingshu break open walls, cut over a person and walked towards him.

Song Qingshu's sword-swinging movements are still so stable now, lifting and cutting the sword, there has not been any other small movements between the movements.

His footsteps are also so stable, every step seems to have been accurately measured, no more than an inch, no more than a point.

All of this is so stable, with a natural feeling like flowing water, but... all of this is too stable.

Song Qingshu's horizontal sword cut away, and the sword wind rushed through the air, and there was a scream.

Immediately he stepped through a black male wall, with nothing to stop him.

The rhythm between swings and steps is unimaginable precisely.

However, it is this absolutely precise rhythm that gives birth to a slightly blunt feeling.

"Song Qingshu, you are very dangerous."

Mo Xiejia looked at Song Qingshu with a blunt sense of precision and smiled with satisfaction.

Immediately, Mo Xiejia stood upright in the night wind.

Chapter 403

The action of standing upright.

It means that Mo Yejia started to have some thoughts about Song Qingshu.

The breeze does not stop under the moonlit night.

The sound of metal crackling spread far away under the originally quiet night.

Extremely mighty.

A little spark was born and disappeared on the edge of the purple blood soft sword in Song Qingshu's hand.

Very gorgeous.

Song Qingshu, who was walking through the wall with a sword, was embellished by sparks, and under the blowing of the breeze, it seemed particularly powerful.

The bloody clothes fluttered, like an Asura evil ghost crawling out of the nine-fold purgatory.

Song Qingshu like this naturally looks extremely powerful.

Moreover, his fighting spirit was strong, and Ling Yu's killing intent rushed directly above the clouds, faintly meaning invincible in the world.

It seemed that Mo Yejia took a shot at this time, which seemed unwise.

How to say.

Mo Yejia should have died after hundreds of heroes.

It was only right when Song Qingshu relaxed that the ultimate move was violent.

Song Qingshu is now in a bloody battle, no matter who is asked to think about it, shooting at this time will not be the best way.

It's even stupid.

But nevertheless.

Mo Xiejia still stood upright, and his clothes were calm and light, and the expression in his eyes became more and more excited.

seem.

It only takes a moment for Song Qingshu's head to be picked up by himself.

However, the clothes were lightly raised for a long time, but Mo Xiejia's body still did not disappear above the black attic.

seem.

He was still looking for a chance, a chance to kill Song Qingshu with one blow.

Mo Yejia didn't know when this opportunity would come, but Mo Yejia knew it would come.

This is a kind of self-confidence.

A belief in victory.

At the beginning of this battle.

Song Qingshu was swinging a sword to break the wind and stepping through a black wall.

He once showed a feeling of ease and ease.

Just in the next constant battle.

The sense of freedom in moving clouds and flowing water has been unknowingly tormented by blood and residual limbs without a trace.

So Song Qingshu can only control the entire battle with precision.

Relying on his accumulated experience from numerous sword swings to control every sword he swings.

Want to control, know that he should control, that means he is almost out of control.

It means that the mechanical precision has begun to dull.

Song Qingshu has really begun to feel a little bit stubborn.

Song Qingshu waved a slash to chop a male soldier with an iron shield into blood foam.

When the knife was cut, Song Qingshu's right foot lifted, and it had not yet landed on the bluestone slab.

He looked around, observing where the nearest attack came from.

When you want to do these things.

Song Qingshu was also thinking about how to swing his next sword.

He was also thinking about how far it was from Mo Yejia.

Thinking about retaining his strength, the most deadly blow to Mo Yejia.

You shouldn't have thought so much when fighting.

But Song Qingshu was already struggling at this time, how could he take so much into consideration?

So Song Qingshu is inevitably a little slack.

then.

The chance to wait for Mo Xie Jia finally came.

Brush it.

Suddenly a cold and silent wind blew up on the top of the black attic.

More than a dozen crows inhabiting the black attic were frightened and barked and flew away.

However, several crows failed to fly to the sky, so they were frozen by the yin wind and fell off.

Mo Yejia's figure looks like a black ghost.

He appeared among piles of broken stones, before Song Qingshu.

Behind him is a vacuum tunnel with shattered air.

The moonlight in the vacuum channel is particularly clear.

It was like a piece of jade, appeared in the vacuum channel.

The gloomy wind on the top of the black attic.

It was because Mo Xiejia had already released all his true energy aura without hesitation at that moment.

With the help of that vicious vitality aura.

As a result, Mo Yejia burst out with unimaginable speed.

As if breaking through the constraints of time and space.

Unreasonably culled in front of Song Qingshu.

at this time.

Song Qingshu's purple blood soft sword was just taken back by him.

And his right foot that had just been lifted was only an inch away from the bluestone slab.

Song Qingshu raised his hand and then made a shot.

In the meantime, it has its own rhythm.

The male soldiers who yelled at Song Qing and then flew over could not shake Song Qingshu's rhythm.

Song Qingshu knew.

His current situation is indeed a bit blunt, even a bit bad and dangerous.

But as long as he keeps this rhythm, he can move forward without stopping.

Sooner or later he will come to Mo Yejia's black attic.

However, at this moment, a gust of wind blew from the top of the black attic.

Mo Yejia brought a scroll to break Song Qingshu's rhythm.

And it was at the most critical point of Song Qingshu's rhythm at this time!

A roll of slightly yellowed bamboo rolls suddenly appeared in the air with an indescribable viciousness!

There was a crackling sound of air smashing in it, and then Ling Ling went to Song Qingshu's door!

Song Qingshu's left hand was slightly empty, with nothing in the palm.

And his right hand had just put away the Purple Blood Soft Sword, and he already had the movement and tendency to cleave to another place.

Between this flash of light and flash of life and death.

Song Qingshu stopped any movement of his right hand.

The muscles of his right hand were tightened by Song Qingshu and then shuddered to relax, and then he held the hilt of the Purple Blood Soft Sword tightly.

Then Song Qingshu also held the hilt of the Purple Blood Soft Sword in his left hand, and the veins on both hands burst.

The blade of the purple blood soft sword stabs forward and stabs in front of the yellowed bamboo roll.

Collect the sword.

Settle down.

Raise the sword with his right hand and stabbed.