In the mountains outside the city, huge wings broke through the tranquility of the canopy, carrying the light like a corpse and falling to the ground, lifting a large field of broken leaves and floating soil. After the restraint stopped, Xuan unceremoniously kicked Xi off the back, and he jumped down again.

Xi lay on the ground, motionless, her chest not rising or falling. He pressed his index finger to his nostrils and was no longer breathing. He was silent for a moment, then unwrapped Xi's shirt. Xi was covered in bruises, and his clothes were soaked with blood, sticking tightly to the flesh and blood. With a "hiss", he tore his shirt open with flesh and blood, and took out a blood-stained letter from him. This was the price of Xi's deal with him, and it was also what Xi had been looking for in the Imperial Secret Library.

He needed to validate his guesses.

He opened the letter, took out a piece of stationery, and carefully unfolded it.

Most of the letter was soaked in blood, and the contents could no longer be seen clearly, but he could still tell from the few remaining paragraphs of text, which were Mo Cang's notes.

This old guy really had a greasy relationship with Shan Huai, and sneered in his heart.

Don't think that it's a hundred times to leave the Frost Mountain and live in seclusion, I'll dig you out sooner or later. Don't you want to go to the ancient medicine path? Then exchange your life for it.

He turned around to leave, but suddenly stopped and glanced back at Xi on the ground. Somehow, he remembered the day when the seriously injured Xi collapsed in front of his bamboo house. At that time, all the conspiracies were still hidden under the water, and he was still Qi Rang.

After a long silence, he put the letter on his body and turned to crouch beside Xi. Closing his eyes and groaning, two circles of light on the outside and on the inside of the blue light lit up from behind him and slowly floated out. The cyan wheel of light rotates clockwise, and a faint stream of vitality emanates from it, while the purple wheel of light rotates counterclockwise, and the cold dead air condenses on it, constantly devouring the vitality emanating from the opposite green wheel. This is exactly the wheel of life and death that Xuan once sacrificed when he destroyed Shaoyang City, but it was much smaller.

His right hand hung above Xi's head, slowly raised, and his five fingers were grasped. I saw that the weeds around Xi suddenly began to grow, and soon grew to the waist height of an adult man, slowly swaying like a cobra with a high head. Then, with a flick of his wrist, bits of fluorescence floated out of the grass stems and converged on his right hand. As his right hand was gradually wrapped in fluorescent, the grass quickly withered and fell.

When the last bit of fluorescence converged on his right hand, he slapped Xi's head with a slap. The palm of his hand seemed to hit an invisible barrier, and it came to a sudden halt an inch above Xi's forehead. The fluorescence on his hand spread out like mercury to the ground, and even the dim jungle was illuminated for a moment by the fluorescence that spread out in this instant. The thumb of Xi's left hand twitched imperceptibly.

The five fingers of her right hand were slowly clenched. With his movements, the large and small meridians on Xi's body gradually blackened, like a black net covering his whole body, even under the bloodstains, it was extremely clear. With his palms facing him, his fists slowly raised. The green tendons on his fists were exposed, and fine sweat oozed from his forehead, as if he was laboriously pulling something. At the same time, the black meridians on Xi's body also began to fade, from the ends of the limbs, to the body, and finally to the forehead. Every time his fist was raised, the black meridians on Xi's body faded a little. A hair-thick black thread sprouted from his forehead and rose slowly but surely with his fist. A purple-black drop of blood, oozing from the root of the black line.

After a stick of incense, Xi's black meridians completely faded, and his fist had already hung to the height above his head, and a black needle the length of a little thumb hung under his fist. The fist was released instantly, and the five fingers were pressed down, and the condensed black needles turned into black qi and gathered in the palm of the palm. He wiped the sweat from his head and threw this small cloud of black gas into the bushes beside him. Suddenly, a tall tree died at a rate visible to the naked eye. In the blink of an eye, dead leaves fell all over the sky.

One of the four great poisonous Gu in ancient times, "Hades but Birth", was refined from the corpse of a monster. The so-called monster is actually a monster. Gu worms devour the flesh and blood of demon beasts, and after being bloodless, they will enter dormancy. The body of the insect was extremely small, and tens of thousands of dormant Gu worms were clustered together, gathering into a pill-like hive. Once the Gu is subdued, the Gu worm will enter the human bloodline, and the power of the demon beast will be revived.

There is no way for a person who takes the "underworld to be born", but the premise is that he is the real underworld.

The underworld was made of the flesh and blood of demon beasts, but this Gu under Xi's suit was refined from poor Ying. Poor Ying is not a demon beast, but a person who secretly transforms into a monster. Of course, few people know about it. If you want to create a poor Ying, you must first cross the blood of demon beasts into the human body. After the birth of Qianying, he also fed on the blood of demon beasts. Therefore, the Gu refined from the corpse of Qianying should be a half-finished product of the underworld to be precise. It has a similar effect to the underworld, but the medicinal effect is much worse, and it will not cut off all the vitality of the user like the underworld.

Speaking of which, it can be regarded as a sale of counterfeit medicine. If Xi was a real underworld, he would not have ended up so miserable in the fight with the Blood Sword Slave. Of course, if it was a real underworld, even the eyes would not be able to force out the toxicity of the Gu in Xi's body like they did just now.

He straightened his waist, took a breath, looked at the seriously injured Xi, and sneered: "Life is really hard." Then, he leaned down and grasped the broken knife stuck in Xi's side. The blade slashed through the palm of the eye, and the emerald green blood dripped down the broken knife onto Xi's wound.

Without mercy, he pulled out the broken knife, and suddenly there was a sound of broken ribs. However, as the blood soaked into Xi's wound, Xi's injury began to heal slowly. His one-eyed eye slowly opened a slit.

"Don't worry, this drop of blood is not poisonous. He said in a mocking tone.

The wound in the palm healed quickly, but the bandage on the palm was broken. He glanced at his arm, threw away the broken knife, took out a small section of bandage from the medicine bag, and wrapped it around the palm of his hand.

Xi was speechless and raised her left hand tremblingly.

"There are villages around here, and if you are lucky enough to meet someone, you may be rescued. He said while wrapping the bandage, "I can't count on it, you can ask for more blessings." ”

Xi's left hand was still stubbornly raised in the air, and his fingers kept sliding.

His brow furrowed, and he suddenly realized that Xi was trying to tell him, so he crouched down again and placed Xi's left hand on his palm.

“······ Slave, blood, blood, what slave, blood sword slave?" I tried very hard to feel the words Xi wrote in the palm of my hand, but Xi was not left-handed after all, and he was seriously injured, and the words written were too abstract, not to mention that there was a layer of gauze. Xi wrote back and forth several times before he could barely read the Blood Sword Slave.

"Single, single, single, what? Mountain, empty······ What is the mountain sky?" Aki's patience was almost exhausted.

Just as he was thinking about whether to completely revive Xi, a fluctuation suddenly came from his medicine bag.

Xi's fingers stopped. He also felt the fluctuations coming from the pouch, and he knew exactly what it meant.

······

The night was as peaceful as ever. There was no carnage or blood, and it was so quiet that some people went crazy.

An arc of electricity lingered on the body of the dragon gun, and it slammed into a rock exposed to the water, and the thunder sounded dark, and the rock shattered instantly. The last soldier roared angrily, taking advantage of the momentum to slash the dragon spear behind him. The tip of the spear cut through the water, and the sharp blade qi went all the way to the bottom of the water, cutting the torrent like a terrifying mouth formed after the earth cracked. The current, which was forced back by the gunfire, collided with the water surging from behind, setting off waves that were more than one person high.

Draw the knife to cut off the water and the water will flow more. Flowing water is like an annoying thought, no matter how you cut it, it will always come again, return to its original place, and linger here.

The icy stream of water poured in continuously, breaking through the wall of water, and raining down on the face of the last soldier, stirring and tumulting around him. The last soldier, who was barely calm, seemed to be enraged by the sound of the water again, and roared angrily in the sky. His left arm was high above his head, and lightning surged, and he slammed his fist into the still calm water in front of him. There was another splash of water more than a person high, and tiny razers flowed like blood vessels in the waves. The water droplets fell with the arc and hit the last soldier with a "crackle", and the pain caused by the arc seemed to soothe the last soldier's anxiety slightly.

I shouldn't be here.

Originally, the last soldier did not plan to stay in Linglijian for a long time, but he didn't expect to meet Yan Yu as soon as he came back, and he was seriously injured, and later he was touched by Jin Huang's story, so he agreed to Yanyu to stay.

The first few days of staying here were a little better, but the longer they stayed, the more anxious the last soldier became.

Back then, Shan Chenggang was not wrong, he was attached to the battlefield.

Moreover, he hadn't figured out what Shan Huaiyan was secretly searching for—that ancient fragment—was it.

He regretted it a little, but if he said goodbye again, he really couldn't face the apology in his heart for Yan Yu.

Life is peaceful. But it is this calmness that has become a thorn in his heart at this moment, teasing his murderous nature all the time. He didn't want Yan Yu to find out, so he kept suppressing it, but the more he suppressed it, the more irritable he became. Suddenly, he realized that he was gradually becoming the kind of person he used to hate the most, the kind of person who believed in violence. Those people used to be his enemies, but now that they have no enemies, he is becoming more and more like his enemies.

Or rather, I was meant to be that.

Am I being against myself all these years?

The last soldier shook his head vigorously, trying to calm himself down.

If you hadn't gone back to Zero, you wouldn't have had these troubles. The last soldier went ashore with a gun and draped his shirt casually over his body.

And if it weren't for that guy who suddenly appeared, he wouldn't have returned to Zerostream.

While he was still investigating the secrets of the fragment in the Xiling Empire, that person appeared beside him out of thin air without warning and attacked him for no reason. He wore a cloak all the time, and he never got to see his face. He wielded a stick-like weapon wrapped in black cloth, and his skills were extraordinary, and he failed to take advantage of several fights.

The man was sophisticated and vicious, he knew almost all of his moves, and he always had an indescribable sense of danger, and even the dragon gun in his hand throbbed strangely when facing him. The reason why the last soldier returned to the Zero Stream was largely to escape from that person.

Suddenly, a low thunderclap came from afar. The last soldier looked up strangely, looking at the cloudless night sky, puzzled. After a while, the thunder did not appear again, and the last soldier shook his head helplessly, only to think that he had misheard, and turned to walk in the direction of the zipline.

Did you hear it wrong? Why is the thunder so familiar?

After walking not far, the footsteps of the last soldier were suddenly stunned.

That's right. It was not a simple thunderclap, but a gunfire that would only occur when the dragon fired a gun to lead the thunder. Only oneself is the sound of such gunfire.

However, the dragon gun is in his hands at the moment. Is there another dragon spear in the world? Or is there another self?

No! The last soldier stomped the dragon gun to the ground. The arc of lightning swelled, scorching the ground beneath the barrel of the gun into a scorched earth. The gunfire began again, quietly echoing the thunder that had come from afar before.

······

At the edge of the pool, Yan Yu lay on the rocks, his head sank in a drowsy state, and he woke up in shock. She rubbed her eyes and looked at the top of the waterfall, barely able to see the motionless figure of the last soldier, and the cold glow of the dragon's spear was gone. Yan Yu smiled self-deprecatingly, stretched, and got up to get ready to go back.

She had just walked into the woods when a figure suddenly appeared in front of him.

The man was wearing a black cloak, unable to see clearly, and carrying an unidentified stick-like object wrapped in black cloth. His left hand rested on the trunk of the tree, his fingertips throbbing, and the bark around him was charred black.

"Are you?" Yan Yu swallowed and instinctively took two steps back.

The man took off his cloak and hat, and there was an old man with gray hair, his thin face full of wrinkles, and two hideous scars that stood out. A scar on his forehead grazed his eyes in a thrilling way, and another scar half the width of a palm stretched to the side of his face, extending to his neck, and finally disappearing into his collar, something dangerous left behind.

"The end of the world is dark all over the barren mounds, who is Xiao Xiao worried about? The man only makes blood into wine, and sits with dry bones and talks about heroes. ”

The old man smiled, chanted strange poems in response, and walked towards the hot rain step by step.

"Boy, do you remember this poem? If you forget, I'll help you remember. ”