Zhanxian

From the beginning of the light, all three eyes were focused on that faint light, watching the light get brighter and brighter, eventually becoming eye-shaking.

The deep well, which was empty, finally revealed its true face after Yang Chen's forbidden technique. A giant sword that extends almost from the bottom of the well to the well head reveals a bright fiction that appears so blankly in front of the three of them.

Unmatched swordsmanship can be felt without even touching it. The swordsmanship in the sky runs across the mountain like it suddenly becomes sharper. Birds that are still dozens of miles away can't even dare fly in this direction, as if there is something here that makes them so horrible.

All this, the three people in the cave are temporarily unable to know, everyone's eyes are focused on getting the sword shadow, nobody wants to look away.

Yang Chen did not do it, nor prompted, of course, Shi Shanshan would not do it, only to admire it at close range. However, both of them did not move, but the middle-aged clerk could no longer bear it and began to do it with impatience.

With a slight chirp, Yang Chen stood there and watched, suddenly a sword tip appeared. Stabbed from Yang Chen's back and then emerged from Yang Chen's chest. At the same time, the middle-aged literary man has pointed a finger at Shi Shanshan.

Yang Chen and Shi Shanshan both had equally incredible eyes, stared dead at the middle-aged man, and then their bodies fell soft and paralyzed to the ground.

“Teach you to be good, and don't believe in anyone you meet.” The middle-aged literary man was quite happy, and the two rookies didn't know how to cultivate the Yuan Baby. They didn't even have any experience in the river and lake. They were simply two stunners.

“Boy, go easy on yourself, you beautiful lady, my husband will treat her like a concubine.” The middle-aged literary man said proudly that his face could not hide the ecstasy: “Before you die, you can take a good look at how the old man received this sword, and it is a meditation on your death. ”

As he said, in the laughter of Haha, Wenshi reached out and dotted his finger on the tip of the giant phantom sword of the long sword. A drop of blood beads immediately seeped out of the clergyman's fingertips and stained the sword. The sword fiction script extends from the bottom of the well to the wellhead, making it very easy.

The Blood Drop Identifies the Lord, which is the lowest way to connect with Pharaoh and is several chips worse than the manipulation of God. However, victory is simple and works well, and although it is a temporary recognition, it allows time for further refinement in the future.

The middle-aged literary man is not a guy who doesn't understand anything. Naturally, he knows how many years of horror this sword has had here. It is unrealistic to charge him for a short time, which is why he used this technique. As long as the sword temporarily does not attack itself, there will be hope of subjugation in the future.

Indeed, without the expectation of the clergyman, the giant phantom of the long sword saw the blood, as if suddenly to find the master, the bright light flashed, and all the phantom shadows entered the clergyman's body from the place where the blood exuds.

The swordsmanship entered the body, and the Vincent's face became cautious. He stood carefully in place. A little bit felt the swordsmanship swimming in the body. After a while, he showed a relieved look, and a smile appeared on his face.

“Hahahaha!” The scribe started laughing again, and his mouth began to freak out again because of ecstasy to speak to himself: “Six hundred years, finally let the old man get this sword, hahahaha, six hundred years, six hundred years, hahahaha! ”

After laughing furiously, Wenshi looked down at Yang Chen and Shi Shanshan, who were paralyzed on the ground. He did not hide his pride and happiness. "Thank you both, solve the puzzle for me for 600 years, and send me a dining stove like a flower. It's not a bad trip! ”

“Forgot to remind seniors.” In the arrogant laughter of the monks, Yang Chen, whose chest was supposed to be filled with a flying sword cave, sat up with nothing to do, his voice was calm, where else appeared to be slightly injured?

“This sword has been in the land of gold for hundreds of thousands of years, and the impurities in it form a protective shell outside the sword. And these impurities are impure and difficult to manage.” In the gaze of the middle-aged master, Yang Chen got up and said slowly: “I was going to refine these gold and gas impurities for at least hundreds of years or more, but some seniors voluntarily tried with flesh and flesh to attract, but it saved me a lot of awkward work, thank you here! ”

Not only Yang Chen, Shi Shanshan next to him, but he also got up with nothing to do and showed no signs of being restrained. The performance of both of them made the middle-aged literary man dare not look west into his eyes. Is everything he sees fake?

To be honest, Shi Shanshan is also a bit strange, Yang Chenming Ming's chest has been perforated, how can it be so easy? However, Yang Chen had previously suggested that Shi Shanshan should be kept quiet. Shi Shanshan had absolute trust in Yang Chen and also acted as an actor. Now I see Yang Chen sitting undamaged, my heart is naturally also happy.

Shi Shanshan couldn't help but laugh at Yang Chen's words. Everything is under the control of this husband of his own, I don't know how this middle-aged literary man who thinks he's in control of everything is feeling right now.

However, it is clear that the literary clerk has failed to ask why Yang Chen's chest hole is still intact. He has discovered the abnormality in his body and his face is beginning to look difficult.

Ahhhhhhhhhhh! An awesome cry came out of the mouth of Vincent, as if he was suffering something, and he kept pounding a big bag and collapsing. Here it is, there it is, constantly appearing.

The murmuring, continuous voice rang from the clergyman, one bloody mouth appeared from the clergyman, and then a bright light flew out of the bloody mouth, carrying a burst of blood mist.

Those flights, just a few steps away, were swallowed up by a dragon shadow that didn't know where it was coming from. This sword-like impurity is my favorite delicious dish in asthma. It is a natural complement. It is especially nourished by the flesh and blood of the master multiplier. It is also delicious.

Apart from screaming, the middle-aged literary man could only watch his body pierced by a sword, and the sword that flew out was swallowed up by asthma. Each sword flies out, taking away a lot of the Vincent's vitality, slowly, the Vincent's voice gets lower and lower, and then there is no more sound. (To be continued. If you like this work, you are welcome to vote on recommendations, monthly tickets (qidian.com), and your support is my biggest motivation.)