Feng Xiaohan knew that he used the wrong words, but the other party was an enemy, so he didn't apologize.

No wonder the previous female saint walked so simply, it turned out that Mo Qiu was also here, and it seemed that the saint thought that he was not Mo Qiu's opponent.

If Baili Youruo doesn't kill him, he wants to borrow Mo Qiu's hand.

What a saint.

Feng Xiaohan looked at the other party and asked, "Do you want to fight?"

Mo Qiu said indifferently: "I want revenge." ”

Feng Xiaohan moved his fingers, pulled out the barren sword from the snow on the side, and glanced at the clouds below the mountain.

The Tianshan Mountains go straight into the sky, and when you look up, you can even see through the extremely faint black hidden in the blue of the sky, as well as the stars in it.

Under the Tianshan Mountains is a sea of clouds, and under the sea of clouds is the ground.

The most dangerous place to walk on the Baideng Road is the height of the Tianshan Mountain, if you fall off the cliff halfway, even the strong person who has completed the collapse will definitely die.

"I remember when you and I met the river for the second time, I said that I wanted to find a place to use as a battlefield, because I had the experience of using the terrain to kill the Tyrants. ”

Feng Xiaohan said: "The top of the Tianshan Mountain is more dangerous than the terrain of the sky, with the land in hand, how can you beat me?"

The wind above the top of the mountain floated her black robe, bringing a faint murderous aura.

At the mention of the river, Mo Qiu's eyes lit up with anger that he couldn't hide.

"If you fall from here, you'll die, it's the same for you and me, but this time there is no so-called wrath of the heavens to help you, and there are no two girls. ”

Mo Qiu said lightly: "This time, why are you so confident?"

There is a large gap in the scabbard of the barren sword, and the pale yellow sword body exudes a faint brilliance, and there are scorched marks on the edge of the gap, which looks very embarrassing.

Mo Qiu had seen the gap in the scabbard when he was in the snowy region of the ruins, and he should have used it to make a fire to keep warm.

Being forced to use the scabbard to make firewood is really embarrassing.

Since he was separated from He Xirou in Tiehuai City, no one told him to pay attention to his appearance, from Zhongjie Mountain to Hanshan Mountain, from Chigu to Tianshan Mountain, such a long distance, months of wind and snow did not make him haggard, but his hair became extremely messy, like a beggar.

Especially when I just came out of the water, I was blown by the cold wind, and my hair was all stuck together and frozen into icicles.

Mo Qiu thought to himself, why did I lose to such a guy last time?

Feng Xiaohan's sword was not unsheathed, but Mo Qiu had already felt the chill from the desolate sword.

The cold wind blew across her waist and made rhythmic noises through the holes in the delicate bone flute.

Feng Xiaohan's face changed slightly, and the voice was strange, making him feel in a trance.

But Mo Qiu didn't seem to be affected, across the lake Yaoyao pointed out, a straight water line appeared on the surface of the lake, those waves were cut off by this line, and the whole lake seemed to be cut in half.

The shot is the secret sword of the demon gate,

A sword breaks the tide.

Since he was in the Tianshan Ice Lake, he naturally had to use the Tianshan Ice Lake Sword.

When the straight water line reached the middle of the lake, it was suddenly blocked by the sword intent rising from the lake, and was forced to stop, making a soft "poof" sound.

The water in the middle of the lake sinks slightly, and small whirlpools appear, but it quickly calms down.

Mo Qiu's figure swayed slightly, and he couldn't help but raise his eyebrows, but he wasn't surprised.

The eight swords of mountains and rivers take the meaning of mountains and rivers, but one sword breaks the vicissitudes of water and cuts water.

The water is broken, and the aura in the mountains is no longer there, which is equivalent to slashing on the connection between swordsmanship and heaven, and the eight swords of mountains and rivers have lost their due artistic conception.

It stands to reason that one sword should be the nemesis of the eight swords of the landscape.

But Feng Xiaohan can use this sword to fight on par with her Canglan sword,

Mo Qiu wanted to use the landscape sword in the landscape wonders, and the sword intent was really even better, and he was able to compete with this sword.

It turns out that the so-called geographical advantage, in addition to the desperate height of the Tianshan Mountains, also has this lake.

Feng Xiaohan dived into the water, looking for the non-existent Extreme Yin Treasure at the same time, he was also cultivating sword intent.

As the first set of domineering swords he had learned, the Shanshui Sword had been extended to the point of extreme profundity by Wanyan Divine Power.

After coming out of the water, I experienced the wonders of the landscape, and my understanding of this sword was deeper, and the sword intent was more subtle, and a qualitative change quietly occurred.

It was this that made Moqiu raise his eyebrows,

The most obvious evidence of this is that his sword is still in its sheath......

Feng Xiaohan's face was slightly pale, and there seemed to be a kind of magic in the sound of the wind entering the bone flute, which made him uneasy and difficult to calm down.

Fortunately, his Dao heart is extremely firm, and it is extremely difficult to shake it, otherwise he will suffer some hardships in the confrontation just now.

Mo Qiu also noticed the other party's abnormality, but he didn't know where it came from, it was something that was beneficial to him anyway, so he simply didn't think about it.

For the result of this battle, Feng Xiaohan is very confident, even if the other party is a master of the Collapse Realm, he is sure to win the battle.

This time I went to the ice lake, although I didn't find what I was looking for, but it was not completely unrewarded.

Mo Qiu stepped forward with a sword, his body was like a weightless willow leaf, fluttering towards the opposite shore of the lake, and when he came to the middle of the lake, his toes lightly touched the surface of the lake, and he floated farther away with his strength, and a whirlpool appeared on the surface of the water again.

Feng Xiaohan's sword is still not unsheathed, and the heart-wrenching sword intent has not yet risen.

He stood quietly by the lake, like a frustrated swordsman, and the morning sun seemed to be the setting sun, stretching his shadow very long.

Mo Qiu felt an ethereal but real aura, wrapped around the other party.

This breath was colder than the wind, more painful than the cold, like the clouds on the mountainside, heavy and oppressive, unfamiliar to her, yet so familiar.

The green sword light lit up, and Mo Qiu tread water across the shore of the lake on both sides.

Back then, the Demon Venerable couple bathed in the morning light and sunset together, discussing the Taoism, Tianshan Mountain was a holy place for her, and every snowflake here was extremely pure.

She couldn't tolerate such a wild boy stepping here and defiling this sacred place.

The faint green sword light left a ray of light in the air, piercing the wind and cold.

......

......

Feng Xiaohan closed his eyes, as if he knew that he was invincible, and he would die calmly.

Mo Qiu's heart rose with great vigilance, forcibly withdrew the sword, flipped his wrist and danced out a few good-looking sword flowers, unloaded the power in the sword, and stood less than three steps away from him.

She looked at Feng Xiaohan, who looked like a sculpture, and said in a deep voice, "What kind of trick are you playing?"

Feng Xiaohan opened his eyes and glanced at the bone flute on her waist, recognizing the same as the one on her waist.

As he got closer, the slight bulge on Mo Qiu's forehead became clearer, and he immediately understood what was happening.

The sword light in his eyes flashed, and he didn't speak.

Feng Xiaohan was immersed in his own artistic conception, and since the sound of the flute did not allow him to concentrate, he preferred to deal with it quietly, like some kind of grinding.

It's like a sword that's already sharp enough, put it on a whetstone and continue to sharpen it.

The bone flute is the whetstone,

What grinds is the emptiness of the mind.