"This girl is not dead yet!" The old man couldn't hide his surprise and joy, without saying a word, he bent over, hugged Nie Qianrou, took two steps, seemed to think that this was inappropriate, and then put Nie Qianrou on the ground, squatted down, and carried her on his back.

"Why is it so light? I really can't figure out what's wrong with you young girls, who are arguing all day long to be slim and slender, plump?

The old man chattered as he walked, like an old man in the village who met a naughty granddaughter on the side of the road, complaining and distressed.

Nie Qianrou was in a trance, and she only felt that although this old man's back was restless and he talked a lot, he couldn't hate it.

She thought about it, and she didn't know how long it took before she found the identity of the old man from her memory.

It's the bad old man who likes to eat pancakes, likes to make pancakes, and likes to pat Yun Mo's ass, it seems to be called Liu Lao Liu or something, anyway, it's a very random name, just like him.

The old man carried her on his back and walked a little slowly, so he was always overtaken by the people next to him, and the old man looked at these familiar or unfamiliar faces, and said, "What's the hurry, it's to go to the battlefield, not to eat a free lunch!"

Nie Qianrou watched hundreds of senior brothers wearing Holy Sword Gate costumes rushing forward, and couldn't help but be stunned, these junior brothers, where did they still have the kind of despair and grief and grief in a desperate situation on their faces?

The disciples of the Holy Sword Sect who survived by luck did not withdraw from the battlefield, but launched a more ferocious charge.

There are no tragic emotions, no cries of despair, only running in silence reads();.

The sword path of the Holy Sword Gate, like a sword, is straightened and unstoppable.

It doesn't matter if there is life or death ahead.

Nie Qianrou suddenly came to her senses, her head resting on Liu Laoliu's thin shoulders, but she felt extremely stable.

The sword cultivators of the Sword Dao Sect had already joined the battlefield, and the triangular charging formation of the Dragon Elephant Army had been fully deployed, with more than 30,000 people, stepping on the ruins of the barrier and the ground dyed red by the sword cultivation of the Holy Sword Gate, rushing towards the last barrier.

As the only passage in the south, Hangu Pass has been the most tragic place of the fight between the Shiwei Realm and the Demon Domain since ancient times, and over the years, the bones have accumulated layer after layer, and here have witnessed the grievances and hatreds of countless people in the two worlds, such as in the past, so today, ****.

Nearly 10,000 sword cultivators who had recovered a life from the Holy Sword Gate rushed to the most tragic battlefield in front of them again.

Fan Shanhe once said that he was willing to be the vanguard of the Shiwei Realm, so although he was at the end of the crossbow, he still supported his last breath and fought against the terrifying frost dragon.

Whether it was the Sword Dao Sect cultivators, the Dragon Elephant Army, or even the Sword Cultivators of the Holy Sword Sect, they all bypassed the battlefield of one person and one dragon, and no one went to help Fan Shanhe, who had obviously fallen into the wind.

It's not that you don't want to, but you can't.

Fan Shanhe is the master of the Holy Sword Sect, the leader of the older generation of the Sword Dao in the Shiwei Realm, and the commander of the 200,000 coalition forces in the Shiwei Realm.

He has his pride.

The Sword Cultivation of the Holy Sword Sect and the Sword Dao Sect have converged in one place, regardless of each other.

Standing together, facing the enemy, and fighting on the battlefield, is the robe.

What's more, the swords held in the hands of the two parties, and the swordsmanship they practiced in their lives, are all of the same origin.

Eight thousand years ago, the Holy Sword Sect and the Kendo Sect were originally one family.

Eight thousand years later, the two sides, which had been separated for a long time, finally converged again.

Fan Shanhe looked at Jian Xiu, who was walking around from both sides, and then charging senselessly, slowly closed his eyes, and the corners of his mouth turned up slightly.

The frost dragon opened its bloody jaws, and dragon breath mixed with dragon blood gushed out, bound to turn this small human who had hindered him for so long into ashes.

However, at this moment, the frost dragon suddenly had a strange feeling.

It stared straight at the man in front of it.

The Qinghong Sword in Fan Shanhe's hand shattered inch by inch, turning into countless powders, which dissipated in the wind.

Qinghong Sword is the third most famous sword in the Shiwei world, which can turn one sword into ten thousand swords, ten thousand swords into a cage, and it can also be as solid as a rock and indestructible.

But such a famous sword was weathered into ashes in the breeze.

At the same time, a majestic qi machine exploded from the body of Fanshan River.

Countless spiritual powers erupted from the ninety-eight air pockets that had been opened around him.

The divine consciousness and spiritual power in the body, which were like a stream of rushing water, suddenly disappeared.

The sword in his hand, the sword intent sword gang sword qi sword move that he had practiced all his life, all dissipated formlessly.

Nie Qianrou, who was lying on Liu Laoliu's back, suddenly raised her head and looked in the direction of Fan Shanhe, her eyes were slowly shocked, and she shouted in a hoarse voice: "Master?!"

"Self-destruction of the Great Wall?" the Confucian sage widened his eyes with a look of disbelief, and turned to look at the Wind Lord, who also saw shock and surprise in the latter's eyes.

The two of them turned around at the same time and looked at the Snow Flower Palace Master.

The Snow Flower Palace Lord bit his lip tightly, a pair of white plain hands clenched into fists, and the green tendons were exposed, "Why? Why do you want to disperse all the cultivation of your life?!"

The Confucian sage and the wind lord stood on the spot at the same time.

The Snow Flower Palace Lord stepped on the ground and rushed out.

The Confucian sage and the wind lord glanced at each other.

The Confucian sage gritted his teeth, "It's time for us to make a move!"

The Wind Lord took a deep breath, "All the mountains and rivers have become useless, and the elite sword cultivation of the Holy Sword Sect is gone, and it is no longer a threat!"

"The soldiers of the Wind Kingdom obeyed the order, cooperated with the Kendo Sect and the Holy Sword Gate, attacked the last barrier, opened the portal of the Demon Domain, and killed me!"

After saying this, the wind lord took a step forward, his feet were windy, and the whole person disappeared.

The dirty thoughts in the holy land are undoubtedly revealed, and after the mountains and rivers self-destruct and cultivate, the wind lord and the Confucian saints no longer have any worries. Only Xue Hua Ji left a line of tears.

The noble and charming Xue Hua Ji has a moving look on her face at the moment: "You don't want to ...... with me after all"

"Kill!"

"Kill!"

"Kill!"

Behind him, tens of thousands of elite cultivators of the Wind Kingdom burst into the valley at the same time.

The corners of the Confucian sage's mouth turned up with a ruthless arc, and with a wave of his hand, tens of thousands of Confucian and Taoist monks behind him poured into the valley like a flood of embankments.

Xue Qianqian's eyes were full of anxiety, and she suddenly bowed to the middle-aged woman behind her, and said in a deep voice: "Please aunt must protect your mother!"

The middle-aged woman nodded slightly.

"Also," Xue Qianqian said suddenly, "If it's too late, please let Uncle Fan live!"

The middle-aged woman stretched out her hand, pressed Nie Qianrou's head, and sighed softly, "Your mother still loves that man after all." ”

As he spoke, he turned into a rainbow and flew towards the frost dragon.

The people of the Three Holy Lands were finally all thrown into the battlefield.

At this moment, the fruit of the Demon Domain is ripe, and it is time to pick it.

150,000 people poured into the battlefield like a tide, and the sound of killing shook the sky.

On the last layer of barriers, in the luxurious chariot, Azule said indifferently: "General Nangong, it's your turn." ”

A burly white-haired old man stood up, clenched his fists and said, "Obey the Commander of the Great Sacrifice!"