Suddenly, at the foot of Hengfeng, another light rose into the sky.

A sword light soared into the sky, although it was slightly weaker than the previous ones, but it was not the slightest bit false.

One at the top of Heng Peak, one on the left and right peaks, and one under the foot of this mountain, there are four roads impartially.

A number that seems to be nothing out of the ordinary, but it still has a deep meaning.

Half of the sword cultivator at the peak of King Xuan died, and this half of the sword cultivator who came to this secular world at the foot of the mountain with all his chances and thoughts, held the monk who was desperate to spell out his remaining half of the sword and died.

Died under the sword he dreamed of, but it's a pity and not a pity, after all, it's not enough for the sword to be as good as a person's cultivation, who will die if the weak don't die?

Originally, he would not die, as long as he revealed his cultivation earlier, with one Bo Bai, his share of one would be discounted, and he would delusionally use half of the half of the discount to ask for a hundred, if you don't die, who will die?

It's like a lazy man in the secular dynasty under the mountain, who doesn't work but still wants to eat a full meal, if the family is rich, the key is to be a poor family with four walls.

A wealthy family in the countryside is richer than a wealthy family in the imperial capital? A small sesame official is richer than the one on the dragon chair? Isn't it just rushing to find death?

The sword qi pierced the sky, and bursts of dazzling purple lit up in the sky, but when those monks with a slightly lower cultivation raised their eyes to look at the purple light in the air, they were intuitively piercing their eyes, and the sword intent was clear.

At the end of the purple light was the young monk in the purple shirt, who had just revealed his cultivation and made the monks present almost the same as the peak of the Xuanhuang who wanted to turn around and run, and he was still a real mountain sword cultivator.

Sword cultivator Xu Wei stepped on the purple sword light, leisurely strolling in the slightly higher mid-air, his long hair fluttering, and his robe hunting.

If it weren't for the fierce appearance of a head with blood flowing straight down his hand and his eyes not blinding, it would simply be the perfect mountain sword cultivation style in everyone's minds.

After casually throwing the head in his hand, Xu Wei lowered his head and looked down at Cui Puyang, who was talking to the thin woman Shu Qi, with a condescending attitude.

At this time, Shu Qi, who was about to draw his sword, also stopped his movements and looked up at the top of his head.

Xu Wei's face was light and breezy, just like a leisurely walk in his own house, so leisurely.

Stepping on the purple cloud ladder, stepping ten steps in one step, two or three steps is to walk in front of Cui Puyang, which is still more than half of Cui Puyang's body, so it is still in a high and descending posture.

The purple clouds dispersed, revealing a shimmering purple light blade, which was trampled on the soles of Xu Wei's feet, and it was also a thousand-mile imperial sword, cutting off the neck of the peak of the half sword cultivator Xuan King with one sword, and then let Xu Wei return the purple sword that was like driving the purple cloud.

The sword that King Xuan had been refining for decades at the peak was only half of it, and when it came, he hadn't been able to pull out that half of the sword blade when he was dying.

Xu Wei smiled, his face was still as kind as before, as if the purple-shirted sword cultivator with a bloody head was not his own, and said, "Hey, boy, if you don't report your family's mountain door number, your family's master will be honored, but you will be unlucky!"

The purple sword at the bottom of his feet, the sword blade swelled, trembling and not stopping, and the appearance of his master, which was diametrically opposite, was a restless sword.

A drop of water can reflect a piece of sea at the source, and there is a similar saying in the secular dynasty under the mountain, a pair of words, a piece of danqing can see how high a wind bone is, how hard the waist pole is, and there are also fists and feet on the rivers and lakes, and the depth of the martial arts looks at the thickness of the calluses of the two palms, and the swordsmanship of a sword-carrying ranger depends on the palm of the tiger's mouth.

Therefore, the man in the purple shirt has this long sword that drinks blood and is arrogant, and his heart is by no means so plain and ordinary.

Cui Puyang seemed to be frightened, and when he grew up, he looked at Xu Wei in a daze with a purple-shirted sword cultivator.

Xu Wei didn't seem to be in a hurry, and after the words, he just looked at Cui Puyang with a kind appearance.

No more than two monks present can perceive the unrest beneath this apparent calm.

The man with the sword around Xu Cangran is one, in fact, less than seventy or eighty years, according to the leisurely years of the monks on the mountain, it is a real young man who is less than twenty years old and has not yet reached the age of the crown, and Zhou Lang is a young man with big hair around his mouth.

The two brothers surnamed Wang, who are dressed like black and red, Wang Benlei and Wang Jingyu are two.

After meeting Cui Puyang with a sword before, Ren was holding back his anger, and Shu Qi, a woman who was still very angry at this time, was one.

There is also a Nanzhou monk, Chu Liang, who is also one of them.

If it weren't for the peak of the Xuanwang who was already half of the sword cultivator who had his head cut off by Xu Wei with a sword, he would already be dead and couldn't die again, otherwise he could have added one more.

Several people could clearly feel that the spiritual power between this exhalation, inhalation and transformation was mixed with a violent aura.

Just like when Zhan Yan was young, in the hottest and hottest summer dog days, in the hottest day, at noon when the sun was the strongest, let Zhan Yan stand on the open space above his head and practice Zama steps.

It's obviously a hot and difficult state of mind in my heart, but in order to get out early, I have to grit my teeth and stick to the heat in my heart.

The aura is full of such impatient sword intent.

At the same time, it is like wandering on the edge of the cliff, and an inattentive person does not hold back, that is, he can't help but fall into the cliff without the slightest consideration.

After a while, Cui Puyang seemed to come back to his senses, and looked at Xu Wei in front of him with curiosity, with an innocent face, if it weren't for the fact that the hand of the monks who held the sword before was bigger, how could he look at it at this time, how could he be a scholarly family, the little boy and the little master in the high wall and big courtyard, people couldn't help but step forward and pinch his very fleshy little face, and then ask "How cute are you" and so on.

It's just that Cui Puyang raised his head and asked Xu Wei in a soft doubtful voice, "Are you a sword cultivator?"

After the words, the monks, who were still slightly noisy, completely closed their mouths, and for a while it was quiet and terrifying, and the needles could be heard falling.

After a long while, Xu Wei laughed suddenly, raising his head and holding the size of his head, the kind with tears overflowing from the corners of his eyes.

It wasn't until Xu Wei coughed twice and took two deep breaths that this could be regarded as a silly smile.

When he looked at Cui Puyang again, his eyes were full of strong and rich sword intent.

So the purple sword under his feet trembled even more.

The cultivation is low, and those who are at the peak of the late stage of the Xuanshi only feel that the aura in the breath is a broken blade.