Fighter of the Destiny

Chapter 332 The Old Sword and the Young Man (Part 2)

When the sword intention appeared, when the iron sword came to Chen Changsheng's side, the sea-like tide of beasts around the mausoleum had already reacted, either with fear or anger, and was restless, but was suppressed by Nan Ke. The piece of soul wood in her hand shone brightly, and the restraint suddenly disappeared. The thousands of monsters in the grassland could not hold back, and they rushed towards the mausoleum. For a moment, the earth shook, the sky and the earth were dark, and the pounding The heavy rain seemed to have a smell of blood and stench.

Only the terrifying shadow remained silent. Although it slowly fell to the ground, it had no intention of showing its divine power. Perhaps it was precisely because of the performance of this big roc that the few high-level monsters with top-level star-condensing combat power deep in the grassland The beasts did not follow the tide of beasts towards the mausoleum. They were not resisting the call of the soul tree, nor were they resisting Nan Ke's will. Instead, they were more intelligent and vaguely aware that something more serious was about to happen. So be alert. The seriousness here is of course for Zhou Yuan.

Countless monster beasts turned into black waves and surged towards the mausoleum one after another. The quiet grassland where the sun never sets had already become noisy. The water pool at the bottom of the weeds was torn into pieces by the sharp claws of the beasts, and then flattened by the scaly belly. , the soil kept flying, the clear water became extremely turbid, and the momentum was so majestic and terrifying. As mentioned before, even if the saint is here, he cannot kill all these monster beasts that are constantly flocking to the tomb, and can only avoid them. Chen Changsheng stood in the heavy rain, looking at this scene, and naturally wanted to retreat, but he had no way out.

Around him, more than a dozen famous swords were hovering quietly in the heavy rain. These swords had seen all the vicissitudes of the human world, but now they had gone through the vicissitudes of life, either incomplete or covered with rust. When they first appeared, they were shocking, but in the end The momentum is no longer as strong as it used to be. The most important thing is that the peerless strong men who once held these swords have long passed away.

With only these ten or so incomplete swords, they cannot withstand the attack of the beast tide. If they want to become a rock that cannot fall before the black ocean, they need more swords.

Chen Changsheng looked at the grassland around the mausoleum through the heavy rain curtain, looking at the terrifying beast tide, trying to find more swords. Those swords should be in the sword pool. For some reason, they did not appear like the Shanhai Sword. They are still waiting for his call or persuasion. But, where is the sword pool?

"If you are here, please come out and meet me because I need you."

This was his intention, entering the umbrella surface along the slightly trembling yellow paper umbrella handle, and dispersed towards the endless grassland.

He looked at the misty and misty grassland in the distance, at the grassland moaning under the belly of the wolf-clawed dragon, and silently said to Jianchi who didn't know where he was: "I will take you away from this abandoned old garden, or You will sleep, but at least... you will not be in this grassland where there is never night and no sleep."

The beast tide was getting closer and closer, and the path ahead was only a few miles away from the mausoleum. Standing on the edge of the stone platform, Chen Changsheng could even clearly see the red mouth of the purple electric leopard at the front and the saliva dripping from the corner of its mouth, and even seemed to You can smell the stench emanating from the saliva.

At this moment, he suddenly felt a vibration.

This vibration has nothing to do with the beast tide or the heavy rain.

This vibration came from the depths of the sea of ​​grass, the depths of the earth. It was very subtle and seemed a little weak, but it was so real.

Like a true purple lightning bolt, the purple electric leopard broke through the dense water plants and ran towards the mausoleum, its red eyes full of bloodthirsty and violent aura.

Suddenly, a warning appeared in its eyes, and then they split open.

Immediately afterwards, the corners of its lips also split, and the dripping saliva mixed with the blood, turning it into a bloody red.

It sensed the danger and accelerated crazily, trying to get away from the shock.

The vibration was really weak, and it felt very slow when it reached the ground.

However, the purple electric leopard, which was as fast as lightning, could not shake off this shock.

There was a slight tearing sound amid the rain.

Scratch!

The Purple Lightning Leopard's body was torn apart and turned into more than a dozen blood groups, which dispersed as it ran, but still maintained its previous speed until it fell to the ground dozens of feet later.

The picture is extremely weird and terrifying.

In the paw prints made by the purple electric leopard, the soft soil kept squeezing and rolling, and a sword slowly appeared.

This was a broken sword with only half of it left. The rust marks on the hilt were extremely deep, and the half of the sword was covered with mud. It looked extremely miserable and was no different from scrap metal.

The broken sword lay quietly in the dirt and grass.

The rain kept falling, and with the washing of the rain, the soil on the sword was washed away, but the rust marks could not be washed away. It was still gray, without a trace of bright edge, but after all, it was lighter. This broken sword kept The ground was shaking, struggling, trying to get off the ground... just like a seriously injured warrior, holding on to a cane, trying to stand up again, and then kill the enemy.

I don't know how long it took, but the broken sword finally left the ground and flew crookedly towards the tomb, as if it might fall to the ground again at any time.

On the grassland where the sun never sets, the monster beasts second only to the purple electric leopard in speed are the wind wolves. These monster beasts are born from the cross between the snow wolves and the charm wolves of Daxizhou. They are born with incredible speed. It is said that they are the only ones on the continent that can succeed. Of course, the monster that preys on the red eagle is mainly due to the collective combat ability and perseverance of the wind wolf.

The mysterious death of the purple electric leopard in front did not slow down the speed of the wind wolves. As the most loyal and bloodthirsty guardian of Zhou Ling, the leader of the wolf pack received the order from the soul tree to kill those who dared to enter. All the intruders in the mausoleum were torn to pieces, and the most important thing was that the wolf pack consisted of hundreds of wind wolves. Even if some died under those broken swords, there would always be more wind wolves breaking through and attacking. The enemy attacks.

Wolves have extremely strong hunting intelligence. During the long wait, the leader of the wolf pack has led his subordinates to quietly squeeze away the other monsters and arrive at the white grass road, because the ground here is the hardest. It is hard and strong, closest to the main entrance of the mausoleum, and most suitable for launching a charge.

All the miserable white grass on the white grass road turned into debris, and the wolves passed by like the wind. Because the speed was too fast and there were too many wolves, they made a harsh whistling sound. However, the next moment, the whistling sound of the breaking wind was replaced by another sound of breaking wind, which was more shrill, or in other words, sharper.

That was the sound of sword intent breaking through the air.

The wisp of white hair on the head of the leader of the wind wolf broke in the wind.

That wisp of white hair is the most obvious feature that distinguishes the wind wolf from other wolf species. It is this wisp of white hair that gives the wind wolf its soul, allowing them to possess the speed of the wind.

Now, this strand of white hair is broken.

The leader of the wind wolf let out an angry and unwilling howl. However, even this howl failed to come out completely. It stopped in the middle, as if it was cut off by a sword.

Countless cracks appeared on the white grass road. Those cracks were parallel to the direction of the mausoleum, like countless straight lines, blocking the charging path of the wind wolves.

As long as the wind wolf crosses this straight line, it will be cut open by an invisible force.

The wolf's claws broke when they stepped on the hard ground.

The shoulder of the wolf with flying white grass wadding was broken.

The wolf's tail is broken, and the wolf's waist is broken.

The pack of hundreds of wind wolves was broken the moment those cracks appeared.

It was like a large basket of stones being dumped on the ground, and there was a splashing sound on the white grass path.

The corpses of countless wind wolves were cut into pieces and kept rolling on the white grass road. Some rolled into the grass beside the road, and some were directly cut into pieces by more sword intent.

On the road leading to the mausoleum, there were broken limbs and remains everywhere, blood was sprayed everywhere, the white grass path turned into a blood path, and the smell of blood was extremely pungent.

As the smell of blood dispersed toward the sky, the sword intent in those cracks also moved up against the rain and came to the sky.

Thousands of gray vultures were flying in the high sky, eerily quiet. These monsters were powerful and insidious. Even Xu Yourong had to burn the last of Tianfeng's true blood to kill the group of gray vultures. It did not roar violently like other monsters, but quietly flew towards the tomb.

It seemed that there was a sky between them and the mausoleum, with nothing blocking them, making it easy for them to launch a sneak attack.

However, those sword intentions also came to the sky.

The cracks in the grassland seemed to tear apart the sky.

Countless screams suddenly sounded, and countless broken feathers fluttered down. What fell faster to the grassland ground was blood with a coquettish color.

Thousands of gray vultures fell one after another, and for a moment, they seemed even denser than the heavy rain.

Countless monsters that rushed toward the tomb split into pieces and turned into bloody pieces.

Countless cracks appeared on the surface of the grassland, the weeds were broken into pieces, the soil was cut into gravel, and countless sword intentions shot out vertically and horizontally, reaching up to the sky.

Even the dark clouds in the high sky were chopped into pieces and turned into countless pieces of fluff, floating in confusion.

The heavy rain stopped just like that.

The setting sun on the edge of the grassland, which did not look like the sun, finally had the opportunity to spread its red and warm light around the mausoleum.

There were corpses of monsters everywhere, and occasionally some monsters that were seriously injured but not dead kept screaming in agony.

The tide of beasts rushing towards the mausoleum stopped for a moment and did not dare to continue forward, rising and falling slowly.

This is a blood-red world.

The black sea of ​​monsters also turned into a gradually quieter red sea.

The mausoleum in the tide of beasts became extremely dark in color after being wetted by the rain. At this time, it looked like a black reef in the Red Sea.

No matter how strong the wind and waves were, or how violent the rainstorm was, it was not shaken in the slightest.

Compared with this blood-red world and black mausoleum, the truly shocking scene is in the grassland surrounding the mausoleum.

A broken sword flew hard from the grass into the sky, making a clear whistle.

An old sword broke through the water with the sound of muddy water falling.

An ancient sword broke through the stone with a dull friction sound.

Dozens of swords.

Hundreds of swords.

Thousands of swords.

Either with difficulty, or with hesitation, or with joy, it breaks through the grass and reappears between heaven and earth.

Countless swords appeared in the sky above the grassland surrounding the mausoleum.

This grassland is full of water pools, more like wetlands, or grasslands.

For hundreds of years, countless people have been looking for Jianchi, but no one has found it, not even a clue.

Because no one had ever thought that the sword pool... turned out to be so big.

Jianchi is not a mountain pond, nor is it a cold pool.

Those swords have always been in this grassland.

This infinite and vast grassland is Jianchi.

No, this is not a pond, this is obviously a sea.

Sea of ​​swords.

The grassland was quiet.

Chen Changsheng stood on the edge of the stone platform, watching the scene in front of him, silent.

He had vaguely guessed the truth about Jianchi before, but when he saw the birth of Wanjian with his own eyes, he was still shocked to the extreme.

Nanke stood on the Shinto, looking at this scene with an expressionless face, not knowing what he was thinking. Ningqiu covered her mouth to prevent herself from screaming, while her companion Huacui sat down in the rain. The old man who played the guqin looked extremely pale, and the guqin in front of him was covered with blood. He did not dare to look behind him.

Teng Xiaoming and Liu Waner looked away and looked at each other, seeing the regret and determination in each other's eyes.

No one spoke or moved.

Even the beast tide in the grassland slowly calmed down.

Because those swords are flying towards the tomb.

Countless swords flew in the red and warm light, as if they were trying to cover the sky.

As it got closer to the mausoleum, the thousands of sword blades washed by the rain reflected light like stars.

That picture is really beautiful.

But those swords flew very slowly and were not as proud and powerful as when they were first born.

Countless swords flew around the mausoleum and slowly spread out, like soldiers in formation.

The world is filled with sword intent.

Those sword intentions were once extremely powerful, but now they are weak, intertwined, and somewhat messy.

There is no intelligence in these sword intentions, but there are emotions, all kinds of complex emotions.

Regarding this tomb, Jian's emotions are indifference and fighting spirit.

For the young man standing in the mausoleum, Jian's mood was to see an old friend and to please take us away.

That knife is ruthless, and time is even more ruthless.

These swords have been sleeping in the depths of the sea of ​​grass for hundreds of years and are already in dilapidated condition.

The moment they left the grassland, these swords had already unleashed their most powerful power.

Yes, these swords are old, rusty, and about to decay.

These swords now represent seriously injured warriors and old men walking on crutches.

They should have left the battlefield long ago and returned to their old countryside, but it's a pity that the countryside here is not good, nor is it their hometown, it is just a prison.

For hundreds of years, they thought about leaving this grassland all the time, but in the end, only one companion succeeded and took away their hearts.

However, the companion never came back.

Until today, just when these swords were about to despair, the old friend finally came back to meet each other.

A young man returned to this grassland with that intention.

The sword is old, but the boy is young.

Chen Changsheng's desire for freedom and love for life are so pure and firm.

It's like a breeze that wakes them up.

They heard his call, believed in his will, and their ambition returned.

The old sword still has residual power, and it can kill enemies even with its broken edge.

Aim for a thousand miles.

Going thousands of miles away.

Return home.

(I promised six thousand words, but today I have to break my promise. This chapter only has four thousand. The reason is very simple. This chapter has ruined my writing. My energy is in these four thousand words. If I continue to write, I will write something outrageous. The difference of 2,000 words will be made up tomorrow, and the 8,000 words will be updated tomorrow.)

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