With the old man with a rosacea, and everything just now, if there is an analogy, in the little carpenter's limited experience, there are only two things that can shock him so instantly.

The first thing is that in the tomb of King Miao, the huge stone statue came to life, and then rumbled away against the wall.

The second thing is that on the waterway to Yucheng, the Taoist priest surnamed Mo killed the evil in the water with a sword.

However, the former was only visually shocking, while the latter was instantaneous, far less shocking than at this moment, when the old qin head slashed down forty or fifty Zoroastrian murderers with a knife.

Especially when the last flying knife came with him, it would be like a wheel, cutting the throats of all the people and horses, and swinging out with a knife, the knife qi was dozens of meters long, and the seven or eight people were connected with people and horses, and all of them were cut off, it was like a miracle.

Such a guy, is he a god?

You know, even if it is forty or fifty pigs, it will take some time to kill, let alone people.

And he was a heavily armed and vicious Zoroastrian disciple.

These guys, who dared to brave the anger of Ma Jiaji, came to intercept and kill Ma Xiaoxia, Ma Bentang and Swordsman surnamed Cui, must be the elite people, especially those leaders, the little carpenter felt terrified.

But at this moment, they all died in this hellish place, which is really surprising.

How can a person's cultivation be so strong?

Originally, the little carpenter had many circumstances, and he had a lot of skills, and along the way, he was quite young and frivolous, and he was full of ambition.

However, at this moment, I immediately knew that there was someone on this person, and there was a heaven outside the sky.

There is no end to practice.

After the little carpenter praised the rosacea-nosed old man, he looked at each other with the eyes of a monster, but the old piano head spun the strange-shaped, kitchen-like knife in the palm of his hand, and then tucked it into his waist, and the huge knife like a butcher chopping bones disappeared without a trace.

Then the old man put his bloody hand in his mouth and whistled.

The old horse paced and came to the old piano head, who said to the little carpenter, "Wait a minute, I'll give these people a little more time, lest they become terrible ghosts and come back to trouble me." ”

After that, he took the horse-head qin on the back of the old horse, and in this Shura field, which was like a purgatory on earth, he slowly stepped on the blood and stumps, and began to play the harp and chant at the same time.

The matouqin is melodious and vigorous, and there is a faint sadness in it inexplicably, and the singing voice in his mouth is the same.

It's just that it's not Chinese, and the little carpenter has shallow knowledge and doesn't know what language it is.

But he can always feel an indescribable Zen, such calmness and vicissitudes of life, which is completely different from the old man holding a knife and slashing people just now.

It's like two completely different people.

The little carpenter was a little puzzled, and the little lion next to him said: "This is the Mongolian language, mixed with some Manchu language, it is a sacrificial song used by shamans to transcend the souls of the dead, the approximate meaning is: you are the devil, you are a sinner, I will escort you to the execution ground, after death, may the gods be forgiving, for you to transcend, transcend all the sins, the body, the soul, will be liberated." Lie down in the mountains, and keep everything in your way, let the wind and the rain baptize your souls, and let the trees and birds take over your bodies......"

He translated the whole process for the little carpenter, who listened solemnly and did not say a word.

After about half an hour of singing, the old piano head sang back and forth twice before he stopped, and then he felt a bead from his bosom.

The bead was as red as blood, suspended in mid-air, but it emitted a strange light, staining the entire space with a blood-red color, like a ghost.

The old piano head had a word, and then waved his hand suddenly, but a golden light fell on the side of several of them, and then, the corpses here, whether they were people or horses, all had a pale white silky breath appeared, and then poured into the blood beads.

Immediately afterwards, the corpses in the distance also flew towards this side with pale white silk.

They are very soft, like dandelions in the sky.

Seeing this scene, Nahu and Lu were curled up in a ball, trembling like a ram's horn, and constantly muttering something in their mouths.

However, he spoke Mongolian, and the little carpenter still did not understand.

Fortunately, the little lion was born in the northwest and knew some languages from all over the world, so he whispered to the little carpenter: "He said that Uncle Qin is the devil, and he is now manipulating the souls of the dead......"