"Old friend, you can be regarded as resting, hiding in this birdsong and flowers, but it hurts me......"

Sikong took off the bronze mask, revealing his old, wrinkled face, and a dazzling hideous scar, from his cheeks to the corners of his mouth, and then crawling through his jaw, like a thousand-legged centipede. Pen × fun × Pavilion www. ｂｉｑｕｇｅ。 ｉｎｆｏ

There are wisps of evil qi floating in the eyes, intertwined with the bloody plum eyes, destroying Sikong's vicissitudes of life, leaving only the demonic strangeness.

When I saw it closely, I could even see the occasional wisp of crimson plundering Sikong's skin, and the evil spirit was coming from it.

And with the removal of the bronze mask, the evil qi seemed to lose its suppression, and it actually became rich and descended, rushing into the air, forming a demon spirit, rolling up clouds and fog in the torrential rain, and transforming into ghosts.

"Christ's evil thoughts?!"

"How many drops of the Blood of Christ did that man swallow with such a strong evil thought!"

"It's the Moloch Spirit! Looking at the direction of evil thoughts, it is the battlefield of the god-killing war six years ago! How did evil thoughts break through the suppression of the gods' luck?! ”

The end of the world is coming, and there are also many people who can turn over the clouds and rain and still have the strength to spare, and when they see the demons in the sky at this moment, their hearts are condensed, and they think of the earth-shattering war six years ago.

At the same time, there were also many people whose faces were gloomy, and their eyes became treacherous, and they quietly rushed in the direction of the evil thoughts.

Sikong squatted, put the white flower on the stone tablet, rubbing the potholed inscription, every stroke of the inscription, every stroke, with the memories of the past.

The rain washed away the stele and trickled down the ravines of the inscriptions to the bottom of the stele and in the grass the bones that might have turned to dust.

"In the past few years, the smoke has been endless, and I have always been caught in big wars, and I have almost died several times."

Sikong looked like an old dragon clock, sat down on the edge of the stele, took a few breaths, and said to himself: "I miss the beginning, you were seriously injured, I carried you back to the lonely city, I was dying, and you used that wooden sword to protect me to death." ”

'Titicaca ......'

The sound of treading water came from far and near, and the figures of the Dao Dao waded through the ocean, even if there were demons attacking, they could not stop their steps.

Sikong turned a deaf ear, his eyes were a little cloudy, and even more hazy, and he smiled bitterly: "It's that you haven't been very kind to see Fire Dance, don't think I don't know that you always peek at Fire Dance, you colored guy with no lust and no guts......"

'Click! ’

The blue sky and lightning spanned the vast sky and the earth, making the world suddenly brighten up, stabbing Sikong's eyes slightly.

When he opened his eyes again, there were several more people in front of him.

"I'll wait, meet the god Moroch ......"

These people rushed over, their ears were wet with rain, and they were on their cheekbones, and they tapped their eyebrows between their right fingers, moved their left feet back, bowed forward, and looked at Sikong's gaze, but they were a little more probing.

Glancing, it seems to be looking for something.

Although they have not seen Sikong's true face, they can go to this lonely tomb of mountains and rivers to mourn at this juncture of the last days, except for Sikong, the god, there is no one else.

In particular, when these people looked at Sikong Na's old, face folds layered on top of each other, like a winding mountain, their eyes became treacherous, and a faint smile appeared at the corner of their mouths.

Sikong turned a deaf ear, didn't look at these people, leaned on the stone tablet, looked up at the distant sky, and seemed to fall into the memories of the past.

Suddenly, at this moment, a weeping blood dragon groaned for hundreds of miles, containing boundless resentment and helplessness.

It is even more sad with the end of a hero.

A few people suddenly turned around, and saw that in the hazy depths of the heavy rain, on a flood of raging winds, there was a stone pillar nearly 1,000 meters high and 100 meters in diameter.

The stone pillar stood in the middle of the ocean, and the tsunami waves hit the stone pillar, only making the stone pillar tremble slightly, but there was no tendency to collapse.

Dao divine light flowed on it, and there were runes belonging to the gods intertwined, making these stone pillars the last land in Middle-earth.

The gods struck.

"So, that's the dragon god?"

At the foot of the green mountain, Ben was climbing the clouds, and a few people who broke the waves and went up the mountain looked back, and saw that on the stone pillar, a silver frost dragon with its wings broken and blood flowing like a stream was lying on a corner of the stone pillar, the dragon's eyes were cloudy, and he was panting.

The Silver Frost Dragon was covered in sword wounds that could not be healed, and not even the divine light could heal them.

And around this silver frost dragon, tens of thousands of people gathered densely. At this moment, there are even some hunters who can't hold back the greed in their hearts and pick up butcher knives, and they are performing dragon slaying techniques to kill a god!

The hunters are a group of fanatics without faith, who only divide interests and live and die.

The atmosphere gradually became a little weird, and the air was faintly hot, and even the cold rain could not extinguish it.

One person saw the dragon's head, his eyes froze, and he exclaimed: "That's it, the supreme staff of the Moro True God?!" ”

As soon as these words came out, the crowd on the stone pillar suddenly exploded, even some people who stayed out of the matter and watched coldly, their eyes were red at this moment, looking at the seriously injured silver frost dragon, and the color of greed filled the surface.

The previous divine war affected the entire Lost Wilderness, and even hit the Lost Ocean, so they naturally noticed it.

But in the past few years, the war has not stopped, and it has become the norm for the gods to fight for the division of power and the division of luck.

However, there are few divine wars that really tear their faces and fight to the death. After all, being in a high position, there are constraints, and there are many concerns, so I am afraid that I will be profited by others.

And seeing the appearance of the Silver Frost Dragon, it seems that he and the Moro gods are both defeated!

The dragon god has lost his dragon wings, and the Moro god has lost the Supreme Staff!

"You saw it too......"

On the green hills, in front of the lonely grave

Sikong eyelashes with rain, looked at the few people in front of him, and said lightly-

"Back then, what I killed was an unqualified reincarnated true god, and the divine luck was incomplete, most of it came from the supreme staff, and now that the staff is lost, I am nothing, and the divine luck is leaked out......"

"Ahem, ahem!"

A rapid cough sounded, Sikong's mouth was bloodshot, his eyes were dim, he looked at the tombstone, and said extremely weakly: "Here, in addition to the tomb of my deceased friend, there is only evil thoughts, which is the blood of Christ that I can hardly suppress." ”

When a few people heard this, their eyes were full of thoughts, and even among the green mountains, those who wanted to come here stopped their tracks.

"And there, the dragon god is seriously injured and dying, and the Supreme Staff is lost, which can be described as a godsend, and if it is too late, there will be nothing."

Sikong covered his mouth and coughed violently again, his trachea twitching, his chest heaving, as if he was about to cough out his lungs.

But he quietly clenched the holy sword, revealing the determination of wisps of jade to burn.

It is rumored that King Yue, who inherited the luck of Moro's true god, was seriously injured in reality and was a sick man, and now it seems that this is the case.

These people only thought for a moment, and when they saw the holy sword in Sikong's hand, they immediately turned around and quickly rushed to the stone pillar that was vaguely in the distance!

With a few people taking the lead, the rest of the people left one after another, so that this lonely tomb of mountains and rivers suddenly threw from the noise into the ink, extremely quiet, the sound of the big waves crashing on the shore, the sound of the rain, but made it more and more quiet.

Sikong, tombstones, tombstones

The three of them were swaying in this smoke and rain, not saying a word, watching each other, with bitter pathos.

A broken sword, stuck in front of the grave.

But suddenly, six people joined hands and walked up to the green mountain, with vigorous steps, calm eyes, and awe-inspiring faces.

They walk slowly and firmly.

They are here to kill.

And the goal, self-evident.

Sikong held the holy sword, held the edge of the stele, slowly stood up, looked at the six people in front of him, and smiled coldly: "Waiting for you, it's been a long time......"