"Boom!"

The two gates of the Beihai Palace's mansion collapsed with a bang.

The dozen or so samurai behind the gate, like crabs on the sand bank, flew backwards and backwards under the impact of the air waves.

Ye Changsheng was full of blood and qi, carrying the immortal sword, and strode into the gate of the palace.

The sword light flashed, leaving two traces of blood.

The two samurai who intercepted on the opposite side stopped their roars abruptly, a line of blood split in their throats, and their bodies fell to their knees with a pop.

Ye Changsheng's footsteps did not stop, and continued to stride forward.

The tenth-level sword momentum not only brought Ye Changsheng a terrifying momentum blessing, but also made his sword faster, more accurate, and more ruthless.

Clean and clean, one hit kills!

The shadowy warriors of the palace rushed forward desperately, except for losing their lives in an instant, they couldn't stop Ye Changsheng's footsteps at all.

In the battle of Zimu Mountain, the elites of the Beihai Royal Mansion were lost, and countless masters were killed and sunk in the sand, and now what is left is just some kind of goods.

The few masters are also concentrated inside and outside the palace at this moment, guarding the side of the King of Beihai.

Angry and nervous, everyone clenched their weapons tightly and looked ahead vigilantly.

The shouts of killing, the screams, from vague to clear, came all the way, constantly tormenting their nerves.

However, when all the voices were gone, they really realized that this deathly silence was the greatest torture for them!

Zuo Yuen Long stared at his blood-red eyes, gasping rapidly, he finally couldn't bear this dead silence, slowly stood up, and walked forward tremblingly.

Stepping over the high threshold of the hall and standing on the top of the steps, Zuo Yuen Long's breathing suddenly stopped, and his face turned pale and bloodless in an instant.

In the empty square ahead, a blood-colored figure came into view.

Ye Changsheng!

The tattered blood-colored clothes were soaked with blood again, and under the morning light, they were as bright as oil paint.

The face was crisscrossed by the traces of blood splatters, but the background was deathly pale.

His palm and hilt were already wrapped in plasma, and blood continued to slide down from the sword on the tip of the falling sword.

Tick, tick.

The blood-colored footprints stretched forward silently, only the drops of blood that slipped from the sword, and after falling to the ground, they exploded a little bit of blood.

His eyes were cold and deep, and through the falling thin pieces of blood, he was locked on Zuo Yuen Long's body.

Zuo Yuen Long was so cold that he could barely breathe, and under the gaze of such a pair of eyes, he felt that he had become a dead man!

"Kill!"

In the deathly silence, eighteen guards let out an angry roar at the same time and rushed towards Ye Changsheng.

The sword flashed, blood splashed, and the battle was extremely fierce from the beginning.

The strong qi made a loud roar, and the fluctuation of energy distorted the entire space, and each corpse fell as if it had deliberately slowed down its movements.

Ye Changsheng was shrouded in blood mist, and quickly swung his long sword, bringing the simplicity and rudeness he had just comprehended to the extreme.

The killing in the middle of the night in Zimu Mountain and the harvesting of more than 300 lives have made him completely abandon the so-called moves, the so-called mysteries.

Every sword swing is just to kill, every scar on his body, every drop of blood that flows, is to make the opponent pay a heavier price.

At this moment, more than thirty fresh scars have been added to his body, but in exchange, there are eight lives and three arms.

Burst!

The three bare elbows spewed out a rain of blood at the same time, and the three figures quickly retreated in a mournful roar.

Blood splashed, and Ye Changsheng's back once again left four sword marks, but the immortal sword that poked forward emitted a cold light, once again entangled the three warriors who had withdrawn from the battle group.

The throats of the three of them were cut at the same time, and they fell to the cold stone slab, and the severed arms raised were still spurting blood upwards.

There are seven left.

Ye Changsheng was disheveled, panting violently, turned around, and looked at the six warriors opposite with red eyes.

The seven warriors looked at Ye Changsheng, who was like a powerful ghost, and the three blood flowers gushing out behind the ghost, their hearts and galls were cracked, and they took two steps back at the same time!

The twelve top killers did not kill him, the two demon sect powerhouses did not kill him, and the army of more than 3,000 warriors did not kill him.

Seven of them, can they kill him?

Almost at the same time, seven samurai put away their swords and fled!

Ye Changsheng watched the seven figures go away, and then turned into seven blood-colored fireworks in midair, and then turned his gaze to Zuo Yuen Long on the steps of the hall.

Zuo Yuen Long was also looking at the seven fireworks, and said a little distractedly: "Did you arrange the killer outside?"

Ye Changsheng shook his head: "It's not me." ”

Not you?

Is that Zuo Yuanyi, or Wenshan Academy, or a senior monk of Fayan Sect?

Zuo Yuenlong suddenly realized that it was pointless to think about this now, he withdrew his gaze and looked at Ye Changsheng under the steps.

Although he already knew his fate, he had regained his composure, and his gaze had regained his calmness, but looking at Ye Changsheng, who seemed to have crawled out of hell, the corners of his eyes still jumped violently a few times.

Ye Changsheng was shaky, but he stood upright like a javelin, looked at Zuo Yuen Long calmly, and couldn't help asking, "Lord Wang, is it really that important to kill me?"

Zuo Yuenlong was silent for a moment, and said lightly: "It may not be important to kill you, but it is important to kill you yourself." ”

These words were a bit awkward, and Ye Changsheng thought for a while before he roughly understood: "In other words, if you change to a person and threaten your power, you will also kill him?"

Zuo Yuenlong admitted: "That's probably what it means, so, Ye Changsheng, from the beginning, this king was not aimed at you." ”

Ye Changsheng nodded, and said with a straight face: "Lord Wang, Changsheng also thinks so, if it were a prince who was deliberately trying to suppress me and kill me, I would definitely choose to fight back, so from the beginning, Changsheng was not aimed at you." ”

With a flip of his wrist, the Wind God Bow already appeared in his hand.

The cyan arrow, as fast as lightning, pierced Zuo Yuen Long's heart, and with his body, nailed to the tall main seat of the hall.

Zuo Yuen Long's face was serene, his eyes were calm, and if it weren't for the bloody arrow stuck in his chest, no one would think he was dead.

Beside Ye Changsheng, the figure of the great eunuch Chen Qian appeared like a ghost, and walked quickly towards the hall.

Chen Qian walked to Zuo Yuen Long's body, looked at it carefully, and made sure that Zuo Yuen Long was dead, and nodded slightly.

He came to Ye Changsheng again, looked at the young man in front of him, and wanted to say something, but he didn't know what to say for a while.

He could only say indifferently: "Ye Changsheng, leave the rest to the old slave, Your Majesty asked the old slave to tell you that the duel between you and the Meng Mastiff tomorrow can be postponed for a few more days." ”

Ye Changsheng lowered his head and said: "Thank you Your Majesty for your care, but don't worry, everything will be as scheduled." ”