"Who is Your Excellency!" In the smoke and dust, a thin old man walked out slowly, and there was a gloomy meaning in his cloudy eyes.

Mu Tianzi smiled slightly, looked at Yi Jianchu, and said, "Since His Majesty has already appeared in front of everyone, isn't it a matter of course that someone will come to the door?"

Yi Jianchu's brows frowned slightly, and he said, "Since Your Excellency is looking for the old man for the sake of the ghost country...... Why don't you make an alliance for a while?"

Mu Tianzi raised his eyebrows slightly, and said with interest: "Oh, to be an alliance? ”

"The human world has been weak for many years, compared to the other five realms, it can be said that there are almost no masters who can do it, if you don't take the lead and don't join forces, how can you win in the battle of the ghost country?" Yi Jianchu said calmly, "Therefore, the emperors of the human world should naturally cooperate with each other, whether they are enemies or not, at least ...... You have to exclude the other Great Emperors of the Five Realms from this battle first, right?"

Mu Tianzi thought for a while, nodded and said, "It turned out that it was to seize the opportunity to force you to show up in the ghost country and kill the new emperor." ”

Yi Jianchu's expression slightly revealed a little regret, and said: "That young man may be able to do a lot, but it is a pity that he chose an inappropriate path and buried everything for nothing." ”

Mu Tianzi laughed and said, "Then do you know his name?"

"Chu Feng. Yi Jianchu looked at Mu Tianzi, and his expression showed a little nervousness.

Mu Tianzi laughed, nodded and said, "Yes, his name is Chu Feng." ”

Yi Jianchu pursed his lips slightly, was silent for a moment, and then said a little coldly: "What is the relationship between Your Excellency and him?"

"The relationship between seniors and juniors, probably. Mu Tianzi still had a smile on his face, but the atmosphere had gradually solidified, becoming a little cold and a little infiltrating, which made several elders on the side of the road a little unbearable.

"It seems that Your Excellency has also chosen an inappropriate path. Yi Jianchu pressed the ink pen with both hands and held the ink pen in front of him like a crutch.

Mu Tianzi raised his eyebrows and said a little sarcastically: "Appropriate or inappropriate, I personally don't think you are qualified to comment." ”

"Really?" Yi Jianchu laughed, but that smile was really a little hideous for his somewhat shriveled face, "Only the living and the victor are qualified to judge everything." ”

Mu Tianzi nodded with a smile and said, "So that person must not be you." ”

"Ignorant and arrogant. Yi Jianchu snorted coldly, the ink pen was raised slightly, and then with the downward push of his hands, it suddenly slammed into the earth.

A violent energy immediately wrapped around the ink pen and was born, making a "sigh" sound, which was noisily connected together, as if countless silkworms were spinning silk.

In the next moment, the surging energy that was wrapped around the ink pen suddenly spread out to the surroundings, shattering the stone bricks of the avenue into countless powders, tearing the earth apart, destroying the surrounding buildings, and countless bricks, tiles, mud and stone fragments were frantically swept in this storm, expanding from the center to the surroundings, covering the sky and the sun.

Mu Tianzi's clothes fluttered in the storm of strong qi, but he was not moved at all, just looked at Yi Jianchu indifferently.

Through the storm that distorted space and pierced through the obstacles of many fragments, Mu Tianzi's indifferent expression all fell into Yi Jianchu's eyes.

Yi Jianchu felt a trace of inexplicable pressure, and a thought that he couldn't believe in his mind in an instant, the enemy in front of him was invincible.

At least, for Yi Jianchu, it is still invincible.

This was an instinct that Yi Jianchu had accumulated over such a long period of time, even if his reason doubted it, he still believed in his own judgment.

This young man who remained calm in the storm could not be defeated even if he tried his best.

But Yi Jianchu would not back down.

Although the Proud Sword Cave Heaven is not as arrogant as the Heavenly Crafting Mansion, the Proud Sword Cave Heaven never flinched.

No matter what kind of battle it is, the monks of the Proud Sword Cave Heaven will treat it with the fullest spirit, even if this battle is a battle that must be lost, even if defeat means death.

Yi Jianchu clenched the ink pen, lifted the ink pen suddenly, and then crossed the sword.

The ink pen trembled slightly, and let out a slight and soft tremble, and the wisps of ink that had spread out in the water diffused in the air again, invisible and casual.

Mu Tianzi looked at the ink pen with a little surprise in his expression.

His surprise was the surprise of Yi Jianchu's sword, and it was also the surprise of Yi Jianchu's sword.

This kind of surprise is not because the opponent has exceeded his expectations, but because this is a very new thing for him, and it is a very common thing to be a little surprised to see something new.

Yi Jian first crossed the sword, and then came out of the sword.

Yi Jianchu's sword came out very slowly, surprisingly slow.

The ink pen drew a straight line, and the wisps of ink that spread out from the ink pen spread along this straight line, spreading from near to far, soaking the earth, the storm, the fragments of earth and rocks flying in the storm, and even the buildings, mountains, and water in the distance, little by little, and turning them into clumps of ink, which were very vivid and vivid.

Heaven and earth have become a picture of landscapes, and even Yi Jianchu himself has become a figure sketched by a few brushstrokes in this picture.

Yi Jianchu's ink-colored clothes fluttered, his ink-colored long beard fluttered, and his ink-colored hand clenched the ink-colored sword, and continued to hand the sword forward.

This sword fell from the real world into the ink painting.

At the other end of the ink scroll, there is a man.

This person is a little incongruous with this ink painting scroll, his white clothes are horizontal and vertical, and the staggered vertical and horizontal lines are a touch of cinnabar, which is a little darker if it is thicker, and some if it is a little lighter.

The mixture of shades made this person's clothes colorful.

The painted figures in the ink painting scroll looked at the oncoming ink sword and laughed.

That ink sword carries the entire ink world, and everything that does not belong to this ink world will be impregnated by its extremely thick ink, and then turned into a part of this ink under its brushstrokes.

The painted figure shook his head and refused such an unreasonable request.

The painted figure raised his hand slightly, and a dull bronze sword crossed his chest.

The rush of ink fell on its body, causing the dull copper-colored ancient sword to be clouded with a layer of darkness and become even more dim.

Flying ink came one after another, with different concentrations coming from all directions, from all angles, at very different speeds.

It is as if the heavy rain that has enveloped the world formed by the reproduction of countless painting methods of ink and wash landscapes from ancient times to the present day falls on the painted figures.

The painted figure stood, holding the ink-stained sword in one hand and wielding it lightly, like an inky barrier, bouncing off the countless ink that had fallen one by one, not a drop falling on his ornate and fancy clothes.

The ink bounced off and landed on the blank space of the scroll, and then it was impregnated, marking the large space full of room for reverie and fantasy with ink dots, completely destroying and destroying the subtle and elegant beauty.

It's like a beautiful ink painting, dripping with a lot of ink balls, even if it was beautiful before, at this moment this picture scroll has been destroyed, and there is no beauty anymore, only crumpled and thrown into the waste paper pile, and there is no chance to see the light of day again.

The ink-colored figure silently looked at the ink spots in front of him and sighed.

The ink pen he held tightly in his hand to sketch this landscape painting scroll had dried up, and there was no more ink to splash or sketch.

He looked at the painted figure standing opposite.

The painted figure's sword is dipped in ink, which it absorbs and collects.

The painted figure pondered for a moment, as if thinking for a moment, and then shook the ink-colored sword in his hand slightly, brushing out an ink-colored dot, which spread evenly from the front of the painted figure to the freehand ink-colored figure in the distance.

The ink pen in the hand of the ink-colored figure suddenly broke, without the slightest warning.

But the ink-colored characters are not a pity, because no matter how good the ink pen is, there will be a bald day.

If the pen is bald, it will naturally have no value of existence, only the fate of sinking together with the destroyed scroll, and there is no other way to choose.

The copper-colored ancient sword shook off the stained ink, and it was still dull, but it was not soaked in the ink, as if the rich ink that had just been dipped in it had only stayed on its surface, and had not penetrated its inner side at all.

Mu Tianzi looked at the ink painting scroll in front of him, and then calmly handed out a sword.

The sword that Mu Tianzi handed out was very fast, so fast that before he handed out the sword, the sword was already over.

The Kunwu sword was slowly put down by Mu Tianzi, and a slight crack appeared in the middle of the ink scroll, and then slowly tore open a zigzag line, and a suitable shade of ink painting scroll was suddenly split into two pieces, and the ink color and the painted figure were also separated.

Naturally, the torn scroll ceased to be a scroll, and in an instant it shattered, and even the ink color became dull and faded completely.

Mu Tianzi slowly rubbed the spine of the Kunwu Sword with his fingers, and whispered to himself: "The landscape of ink painting is too illusory and too freehand, and it is suitable for you noble scholars to appreciate...... For me, as a layman, I still like the thick and colorful paintings. ”

Yi Jianchu smiled and said softly, "Really?"

Yi Jianchu's right hand was raised slightly, and the sword pointed at the void.

The sword mound behind him boiled in an instant.