Lord of the Desert

Chapter 390 Freshmen
Feng Jianke died.

Absolutely true.

All the accomplished warriors within a radius of dozens of miles could see that a huge amount of highly condensed true energy was gushing out from his suspended body, like a mountain falling into the sea, splashing up waves as high as the sky.

The noise was so loud that it seemed as if it was not just one person who died, but a part of the world.

Silent, invisible, and formless yet clearly existing waves washed over Hong Fan, causing him to have a splitting headache and filling his vision with hallucinations that came from nowhere.

It was the most chaotic and incomprehensible black, bubbling and rolling like magma.

From the gloom, countless colorful bubbles rose up, their edges were dark and sticky, densely packed and endless. If you look closely, they look like the overlapping roots of plants or the naked muscles of animals.

A feeling of nausea rushed up my throat, like sticky oil being squeezed out of the earth.

Hong Fan supported himself on the ground with his hands and vomited, trying hard to maintain his balance.

During those few seconds, there was not a breath of wind.

It was as if the world was still confirming someone's death and it dared not breathe.

The illusion had not yet faded, Hong Fan's esophagus was burning and his mouth was bitter, and he was unwilling to wait any longer.

He forced himself to stand up and punched the ground, then picked up a rock stained with blood and threw it at Feng Jianke with all his might.

The throw was obviously deflected from a distance of a hundred feet, but the airflow it carried finally moved the body.

Feng Jianke was shattered.

His body, including clothes, skin, flesh and bones, turned into powder and turned into a rain of ashes, covering half of the royal city.

This is not the death of one person.

This is a wound in Kyushu.

This is the chronic death of hundreds of thousands or even millions of people in the three counties of Huaiyang, until today, until this one person.

The world was drenched in silence.

Hong Fan looked at the ashes and finally suppressed the dizziness in his head. He stood up suddenly on the cliff and made the first shout.

"Feng is dead!"

The voice was hoarse, like a knife piercing rust into brocade.

He took a breath and shouted again.

"Feng is dead!"

The sound was like tearing cloth, as if someone was cutting it violently with a knife.

Then, Hong Fan finally heard the echo like a tsunami gushing out from the internal organs, bones, lips and teeth of countless people.

"Feng is dead!"

It was as if the world was turned upside down, as if a stone broke through.

The morale of the Tianfeng Army completely collapsed. For them, Feng Jianke spanned the past, present and future of their lives - under the wings of this name, they were born, their fathers grew up, and their grandfathers were buried...

The city wall was breached in an instant, and countless defenders surrendered on the spot.

When Hong Fan went down the mountain, Feng Chengyi was no longer there.

He followed the blood and wet traces and finally found his way to the Qinzheng Hall.

The hall was empty, and behind the throne there was a rapid breathing.

As Hong Fan walked in, he heard Feng Chengyi crying and yelling.

"do not come!"

"Please don't come over here..."

"I will give you whatever you want, and I will forgive you for all your past deeds!"

Hong Fan turned a deaf ear to him, raised Feng Chengyi to break the bones of his limbs, and then pierced his dantian with his bare hands to carbonize the wound and stop the bleeding.

He threw Prince Huaiyang onto the throne, and casually fired a few Fire Cloud Palms to ignite the wooden pillars of the curtains.

Walking out of the hall, Hong Fan stood between the ancient pines and the golden bricks, turning around to watch this 200-year-old hall and its contemporary owner going to the end.

The fire burned Feng Chengyi.

It seemed to be burning in Hong Fan's heart as well.

At this moment he felt that he had turned into flames, burning the world to cleanse it and thereby prove his existence.

Feng Chengyi stopped breathing.

The building was engulfed in flames.

The shouts of the rebels sweeping the entire city came overwhelming from the air.

Hong Fan felt numb all over and was in a daze for the first time in a long time.

He stared at the fire as if he had never actually seen fire:
The wooden pillars turned black as they burned, and tongues of fire flowed from their cracks;

The bronze crane is wrapped in flames, its color changing from blue to red;
The long carpet also caught fire, the flames were high and straight, like a road or steps...

In the past three years, Hong Fan has killed many people, but has never seen concrete destruction and the rebirth that destruction brings.

The fire is still burning.

It burned the palace and the king, and also forged Hong Fan's true energy into true essence.

When the entire hall collapsed in fire, he completely merged with the innate fire spiritual energy and entered the innate realm.

(End of this volume)

(End of this chapter)