Just now it was the provincial capital of the Terran race, and he was chased and beaten in the ass.

Suddenly, he became the demon king of the demon clan, and was hung up and electrocuted.

At the head of the city, Yang Ziming said a little uncertainly: "This, is this a demon king?"

Many people have this question in their minds.

In the perception of everyone, the demon king represents unattainable and invincible.

That's an innate powerhouse!

The appearance of the Mojiao White Deer chasing and killing Yin Ming before is obviously in line with this setting.

However, now that the situation has reversed, the inkhorned white deer looks like it is about to be electrocuted.

This miserable appearance, where is there half the appearance of a demon king.

The corners of Zhao Jin's mouth grinned, and said, "It must be the Demon King!"

"What big demon have you ever seen so terrifying?"

As he spoke, he pointed to the city.

Before sealing the West City, the land within a radius of several miles had become fragmented, like a tofu block falling to the ground from a high place.

These are all caused by the two or three hooves of the Inkhorn White Deer just now.

Liu Ji's eyes rolled, and he said, "So, is the master already an innate literary saint, and the realm has surpassed the little saint realm?"

"Otherwise, how could the master hang this demon king up and hammer it?"

Everyone was taken aback, but immediately felt that although Liu Ji's statement was absurd, it was also reasonable.

At this time, the situation before the closure of Xicheng changed again.

The ink-horned white deer roared wildly, reinvigorating his demonic energy.

He is an innate demon king, and his demonic aura has long been different from ordinary demon clans, and he can be called spiritual demon qi.

He cheered up his demonic energy with all his might, and finally expelled the electric light from his body.

Immediately afterwards, the demonic aura around the Inkhorn White Deer was permeated, obviously to prevent Yin Ming from continuing to attack.

Yin Ming didn't rush to make a move, but pulled away and lifted the Wendao Zhu pen from a distance.

It's not the same as the spectators' feelings.

Both are now jealous of each other.

The demon king is worthy of being the demon king, the demon aura is rampant, and a series of attacks make people almost breathless.

Yin Ming's literary spirit is as vast as the sea, which is more than 10,000 times the reserve of the normal realm.

However, in the face of the Demon King's series of attacks, he almost didn't even have room to exert himself at one point.

The ink-horned white deer was also suspicious.

This damn human race, obviously not even innate to enter, why does it have such a strong force?

This feeling was as if thousands of Martial Sects, or Great Demons, were attacking in unison.

Although the demon king is strong and invincible, he regards the creatures below the innate as ants.

But...... Even if it's a thousand, ten thousand ants, it can bite people to death!

A martial sect, the demon king is regarded as air.

Ten martial sects, the demon king can be killed with one hand.

Hundreds of martial sects, the demon king can be destroyed in a moment.

However, thousands or tens of thousands of martial arts realm powerhouses attacked together, and the demon king also had to weigh it.

The ink-horned white deer rose directly into the air, staring coldly at Yin Ming in mid-air.

It's just that his fried appearance combined with his cold eyes can't help but be funny.

He said coldly, "Very good. ”

"Terran, you are strong, but you also anger me!"

After he said that, he looked up to the sky and roared: "Xishan Demon Clan, attack!"

Behind him, countless demon clans looked back in unison and looked at the deep black firmament.

In the black dome, the voice of the White Deer King came.

"Kill. ”

With a bang, the overwhelming demon soldiers roared in unison and slaughtered forward.

Tens of thousands of demon soldiers, this is not tens of thousands of people.

Most of the demon clans are huge, and these tens of thousands of demon soldiers are comparable to the army of 100,000 people.

Sealing the head of the West City, everyone gasped.

I saw the demon soldiers rushing in a fan shape, and the black pressure was like a terrifying tide.

Everyone involuntarily raised their heads and looked at the provincial capital in mid-air.

However, higher up, the ink-horned white deer suddenly swooped down.

"Terran, before this city is destroyed by my demon clan, let me see if you are as strong as the innate powerhouse!"

Yin Ming didn't dare to be careless, and with a wave of the Zhu pen in the text, a line of dragons and grass had already appeared in the air.

"Thousands of blows are still strong, and the wind is blowing. ”

This cursive writing is extremely fast, and Yin Ming has been prepared for it in advance.

This time, before the attack of the Inkhorned White Deer arrived, Yin Ming had already put pen to paper.

Poetry and culture make a cyan air current.

In the ground under Yin Ming, a thick bamboo suddenly grew.

The giant bamboo climbed directly into the air and included Yin Ming.

The pitch-black demonic aura of the ink-horned white deer hit the cuizhu, causing the cuizhu to shake violently, but there was no sign of breaking.

The eyes of the white deer with ink horns are sharp, and when he shakes his antlers, he will cut this green bamboo.

However, a flash of lightning had already rushed towards him.

Mojiao Bailu Shicai suffered a lot under this trick, and subconsciously dodged the past.

At the same time, in the green bamboo, Yin Ming shouted: "The literati inscribed war poems, the guards attacked, and the city was defended!"

At the head of the city, many people were originally stunned by the momentum of the demon clan.

Hearing Yin Ming's cheers, many people came back to their senses.

For a time, both the literati and the guards took action.

Wenqi, rain of arrows, and artillery rushed to the demon clan under the city together.

Yin Ming couldn't help frowning while waving the Wendao Zhu pen, and found that many people were pale with fright.

Although combat is not just a contest of morale, morale can definitely affect the combat strength of the army.

Those archers shot arrows that were three points softer than usual.

The literati were even more affected.

If the courage is not strong, the thoughts will not be accessible, and the operation of the literary spirit will be sluggish.

In this way, they attacked with a literary tone, and naturally their power was drastically reduced.

However, at this time, Yin Ming didn't have time to solve their problems.

As soon as he was distracted, the antlers of the ink-horned white deer flickered, and the green bamboo had already been cut.

Yin Ming's figure flickered, picked up the pen and wrote the word, and quickly dodged away.

High in the sky, Yin Ming and Mojiao Bailu were circling, and it was difficult to distinguish between the two for a while.

However, the situation in the city below is becoming more and more tense.

The demon soldiers frantically attacked the city, directly resisting the long-range attacks of the human race, and climbed the city wall.

Even, even Yin Ming was slightly affected.

These literati were timid in their hearts, and the tone and simmer that fed back to him were also weakened by half a point.

Fortunately, Fengxi has a wide area, and it's not just these people who are feeding Yin Ming's literary spirit.

Otherwise, the battle between Yin Ming and Mojiao Bailu will immediately fall into a bitter battle.

However, the situation is getting more and more tense, and the demon clan has already climbed to half of the city wall.

If it is not dealt with, the scene will be out of control.

Yin Ming gritted his teeth, and suddenly waved his sleeves, and a scroll of jade books flew out.

Yu Jian flew down directly and descended to the head of Fengxi City.

The Book of Poetry.

The jade book was unfolded with a "bang", and the jade sticks turned rapidly.

Eventually, a jade sign shines brightly, and its previous verse blooms with infinite brilliance.

"Squirrels"

"Big rat big mouse, no food for me! Three-year-old girl, don't care about me. The dying woman is a paradise. Paradise and Paradise, I have what I have. ”

“......”

This poem is a poem of resistance.