God-level Sword Fairy of Martial Arts

Mo Yi shouted coldly, and directly moved his hands together, and shot out both palms, which seemed bland, but in an instant two palms became four palms, four palms became eight palms, and eight palms became sixteen palms...

For a moment, the sky is full of palm shadows, densely packed, false and real, and there is no way to tell the truth from the false.

"Thousands of hands like palms!"

The old monk exclaimed, but he was in a cold sweat, looking at the palm shadows in the sky, he couldn't tell the truth from the fake.

A sense of crisis instantly enveloped his heart, and the old monk knew in his heart that after this palm, it might be over.

In this palm shadow, only two palms are real, the others are fake.

But the old monk could only use his full strength to take two palms.

If the bet is right, then there is still a chance.

If you lose the bet, you will surely die!

Mo Yi's full-strength slap, he knew that he couldn't bear it at all.

In desperation, the old monk could only take a deep breath, moved his palms together, and blasted straight out: "Vajra Prajna Palm!"

boom!

The majestic palm force roared out, directly shattering the numerous palm shadows around.

But the old monk's face instantly turned pale as paper, the bet was wrong!

At the moment, the old monk hurriedly raised his inner strength again, raised his palm, and shot.

But unfortunately, one step too late, Mo Yi's palm has already landed on his forehead!

boom!

The sound of slapping a watermelon sounded, and the old monk was fired and fell directly to the ground, dead.

A Shaolin old man is immortal, the uncle of Shaolin Abbot Fangzheng Master, just died!

Chapter 3 Re-burning the Bookstore (5/1)-->>(Page 2/[-]), please click on the next page to continue reading.

A Shaolin old man is immortal, the uncle of Shaolin Abbot Fangzheng Master, just died!

For a moment, the surroundings were silent, and the other eminent monks were even paler, looking at Mo Yi with fear and fear, and no longer had the heart to fight.

Mo used Shaolin's seventy-two stunts to brutally kill Shaolin monks, and they were even more vulnerable.

It can be said that by now, Mo Yi has completely shattered their confidence.

At this time, the bell rang outside, and the other monks finally noticed it and hurriedly gathered around.

"It's time to do it, kill Wushe!"

Mo Yi said coldly, moving his hands together, the dragon roar exploded in an instant, and a long golden dragon roared out, directly killing the three Shaolin monks.

Then the Xuanyuan sword came out of its sheath and stepped forward, the sword qi vertical and horizontal, killing the Quartet.

Dongfang Bai did not hesitate behind him, his slender jade fingers moved slightly, and under the urging of Nianhua's fingering, silver needles shot out one after another, and each needle could kill one person!

Nianhua refers to the sunflower collection, even the eminent monks of Fang's generation are dead and alive!

On the other hand, Feng Qingyang jumped and landed directly in front of the Tibetan Sutra Pavilion, with a long sword in his hand, leaving the world independent.

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Dugu's nine swords roared out, the sword qi overflowing, one husband is the gate, and ten thousand people are not allowed to open it!

Even if there is only one person and one sword, many Shaolin monks will be stopped outside!

This is strength.

Outside the house, the sword energy is vertical and horizontal, and it is invincible.

Inside the house, silver needles are rampant, killing people like numbness.The sword light overflows, and the dragon howls all over the sky!

After only counting their breaths, Mo Yi and Dongfang Bai looked at each other and nodded. There were already corpses all around.

Mo Yi used Shaolin's seventy-two stunts to kill Shaolin elders without dying, which has completely defeated the beliefs of the monks, making them no longer able to fight!

In the face of the joint strangulation of Mo Yi and Dongfang Bai, all the eminent monks in the Tibetan Sutra Pavilion had to resist with all their might and be slaughtered by their necks!

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"As I said, today, Shaolin monks will kill another wave! The Tibetan Scripture Pavilion will be burned again!"

Mo Yi said coldly, with a wave of his hand, the fallen heart flames roared out, and instantly rushed to those Shaolin unique skills that still carried the fragrance of ink, all of which were written by Shaolin monks from memory, word by word, in the past three months.

But now, it is still burnt!

"Thief, dare!"

Looking at the Tibetan Sutra Pavilion, which was burning again, the monks outside were very angry, their faces were pale, and they were now dripping blood.

This is the hard work of all the eminent monks, written stroke by stroke for more than three months!

It is the foundation of Shaolin inheritance and the soul of Shaolin!

Fang Leng couldn't help but exclaimed: "Stop, thief, you are doing something wrong. If you want to go to the eighteen layers of hell, even the Buddha can't save you!"

Whoosh!