In the Divine Consciousness Room, Mo Luo looked at the opposite side and suddenly seemed to be a changed person, at this time he was full of strong battle intent, the fanaticism and desire in his eyes were almost condensed into flames, and a fiery red robe continued to rise with his own momentum and no wind, which looked quite successful.

"I have a question for you before fighting," Mo Luo's momentum was much smaller, to be exact, there was no momentum at all, and the black robe even fluttered under the influence of Huang Yan's momentum, "How do you know that I have a strong heart?"

To be honest, Mo Luo is very curious about this question, it stands to reason that only the Feng Clan Ancestor and the Yin and Yang Family know about their mental cultivation, and the others don't even know about Yu Ruohua Ya'er, but this Huang Yan can immediately point it out as soon as they meet, and use it as an excuse to learn, which naturally makes Mo Luo, who is cautious in his heart, curious.

"Oh, I forgot to tell Brother Moro, my dad told me everything about you. Huang Yan smiled innocently.

"Dare to ask which senior your father is?"

"A bad old man, I don't know how old he is, and he has turned himself into a middle-aged man in his thirties and forties, and he is very sassy," Huang Yan pouted when he mentioned his father, with a look of disdain and contempt, "Oh yes, you may not know his name, but you know the beast master of our beast clan, that guy is my father." ”

Mo Luo was shocked, he had never seen this beast master before, but people even knew their own mental cultivation, would they know anything else? The more I thought about it, the more frightened I became, and some cold sweat broke out behind my back. However, Mo Luo also knew that he could not compare with a beast master who might become an ancestor, and because of that plan, he would have to face that guy sooner or later, so he calmed down after thinking about it and faced Huangyan wholeheartedly.

"Brother Moluo, let's not say anything else, come on, let's fight!" Huang Yan took out a wooden knife, "Although the cultivation of the Dao is slightly stronger, but this time we don't need the cultivation of the Dao, we will fight completely with 'Yi', and I hope that Brother Moluo will teach you!" Then the momentum of the whole body dissipated, and the knife in his right hand was raised in the air, "The little brother's sword intention is just beginning, there are only three knives, this is the first knife, forget the words!" and then slashed it down, looking unremarkable.

The opposite Mo Luo is indeed a big alarm, as soon as this knife comes out, Mo Luo found that the surrounding environment has changed, and completely fell into the artistic conception of Huang Yan's knife, under the forgetting of this knife, all the sounds seem to be annihilated, Mo Luo's thinking seems to have stopped, only to see the pitch-black knife marks cut out by the knife slowly cut through the space, getting closer and closer to Mo Luo at the same time, the knife marks seem to absorb all the sounds, colors, When the air was about to slash at Mo Luo, Mo Luo suddenly found that everything around him dissipated, and he felt as if he was in a pure white space, unable to distinguish between up and down, left and right, and the chaos made Mo Luo forget and be stunned.

What a trick to "forget words"!

Mo Luo's dim eyes suddenly flashed with a strange light, and then Mo Luo's expression seemed to be with a kind of fanaticism, and then his left hand turned into a fist, and gently shot it in front of him, accompanied by a whisper from somewhere away, as if it was also carrying a distant ballad, this punch, murmuring!

Then Moro broke away from the pure white space in a bang, and he was repelled by the blows of fist intent and sword intent for a long distance, and did not stop until his back was against the wall of this stone chamber. And Huang Yan on the other side was not as embarrassed as Mo Luo, but he also took two or three steps back before stopping, the expression on his face was stunned for a moment, and then immediately became even more fanatical. "Brother Moluo, what is this punch called?"

"Murmur. Moro stood up and walked back to his previous position, spitting out two words in his mouth.

"Okay!Brother Moluo, take my second knife, Sunset!" Then the wooden knife rose horizontally again, but not above mid-air, but horizontally on the front side of the body, and slashed out.

Mo Luo's face instantly became a little pale, in his eyes, Huang Yan's horizontal slash suddenly turned into a half-cut horizon of the remnant sun, the remnant sun was slowly falling, Mo Luo stood in front of the horizon and watched the remnant sun disappear little by little, his body was slowly shrouded in darkness, Mo Luo suddenly had a sense of anxiety in his heart, when the light of the remnant sun completely disappeared, and the whole world was completely replaced by darkness, this anxiety slowly turned into an unprecedented sense of fear.

Mo Luo took a deep breath, knowing that if he didn't deal with it, he was afraid that his cultivation heart would be affected, even if it was difficult to cultivate an inch due to this sense of fear!

Then he turned his palm into a fist again, but this time he did use his right hand, and after the second tribulation, he didn't know what was going on with this special right hand that grew from the fruit tree of life and death.

"This punch is what I realized in my second tribulation," Mo Luo seemed to mumble to himself, and then those pictures flashed in his mind, in that small mountain village, Xizi's last pale face and some blackened face, Niu Liu's back when he went out with the village chief to repair the upstream river dam, Xizi Niang's crazy appearance sitting at the door of the door next door next door, Wang Hua's last murmur in bed, and his strange feeling as a cow in front of the forest, all of this passed through the tip of Mo Luo's heart, and then condensed in Mo Luo's right fist, this punch was played very slowly, accompanied by a rich and silky sadness, sadness like water, water scattered like smoke, spreading to everything around, entangled, in an instant, the entire space was entangled with that bit of rich sadness, and even the darkness that enveloped Moluo seemed to be unbearable in this sadness, and then gradually collapsed, and at the same time collapsed the horizon, the horizontal slash scar.

But the sadness of Mo Luo's punch still did not completely dissipate, the extremely slow punch continued to advance, and the unforgettable sadness continued to wrap around Huang Yan like smoke, and when Mo Luo's punch was finally finished, that kind of sadness finally wrapped around Huang Yan, whose face changed greatly.

Huang Yan retreated more than a dozen steps before he could stop, his face suddenly became very pale, a kind of sadness wrapped around him, Huang Yan stood up suddenly, and his momentum soared, which forced this sadness out and dissipated. Then he looked at Moro again, and the frenzy on his face continued, but at this time there was a lot more caution and respect.

"This punch, pathos. Without waiting for Huang Yan to ask, Mo Luo told him. Huang Yan laughed heartily, and then saluted solemnly to Mo Luo, "Brother Mo Luo, your strength makes me respect, this is my last sword, please advise!"

Then he held the wooden knife with both hands, but there was no big movement, just used the wooden knife as a paintbrush, using the void in front of him and the Moro opposite as the drawing paper, and lightly clicked it with a knife.

"This knife, point general!"