Yinchen didn't know these things, Zhang Mengmeng patronized the completion of the elder's task when he gave him "teaching and solving doubts" yesterday, patronizing his inner struggle, but he didn't even mention the most basic things among monks. She herself thought that after breakfast today, she would give Yinchen, the newly recognized brother, a good and detailed explanation, and let him really understand the wonderful moon blood in the monk world, but it was a pity that Yinchen encountered this kind of tattered thing before he could fill his stomach.

It's not that Silver Dust is inexperienced in fighting monks, it's just that he's always used to thinking from a mage's point of view. It's not that mages can't fight hand-to-hand, but they have never won a melee fighter of the same level in hand-to-hand combat, not to mention warriors, samurai, and even a person with extraordinary abilities is difficult to win. The mages spend most of their time in the field of communicating heaven and earth construction, and they are not keen on the cultivation of ** strength, because the cultivation of the physical body is more time-consuming and ineffective than the cultivation of the spell field, and the mages cherish their time very much, and they have no extra lives to waste. Therefore, although their bodies are still very good in all aspects, they cannot be compared to the fist machetes of the fighters.

Silver Dust, like all mages, resolutely did not dare to play hand-to-hand combat with melee masters, not only was it ungraceful, but it also hurt a lot. That's right, it hurts a lot, and Silver Dust is afraid of pain.

Therefore, the moment Yinchen saw Zheng Bushuang rushing over, what he reacted in his mind was "This guy is going to hit me", not some staggered defense, after all, Zheng Bushuang's action of sinking his shoulders is very similar to the style of a rugby player.

A soft purple light appeared from Yinchen's body, and in the blink of an eye, he flew ten meters away, almost three feet away. Zheng Bushuang, who was originally ready to stagger and break the defense, a guy in the Peiyuan realm of Great Perfection, how could he restrain his strength in a hurry, but because of the inertia of the vitality in his body, when he was still close to the position where Yinchen was originally standing less than a foot away, he suddenly turned slightly, and charged from the right side close to that position, if Yinchen did not move, then the closest distance between them might not even be a few inches, it was really a passing by. At the moment when Zheng Bushuang was closest to Yinchen's original position, this temporary disciple of the Great Perfection of the Demon Wei Pavilion suddenly raised the sleeves of his clothes that had been blown up by the Gangfeng wind, and dozens of gray rays of light burst out from the sleeves, and 29 flying knives with cold light sparkled out from his sleeves, and the posture was simply the same as ******.

As soon as the 29 flying knives left his body, 29 skulls were conjured in the air, and a deranged ghost cry was accompanied by thick gray-black smoke, and the skull shrouded in Zheng Bushuang's body also shrank rapidly, and finally wrapped around his fist, turning into a powerful wind that almost condensed into a solid body.

The 29 fist-sized skeletons suddenly turned back when they flew out a zhang away, and began to revolve around Zheng Bushuang at a rapid pace, obviously at this time, the temporary disciples of the Demon Wei Pavilion had already adjusted, switching attack and defense, and preparing for the next attack.

At this time, Yinchen had already retreated 10 meters, and then moved a little distance to the right again, just enough to make himself five feet away from Zheng Bushuang.

This distance is beyond the reach of the monks, and it is not a matter of the Jindan master to come.

Zheng Bushuang waved his sleeves, and the 29 skulls seemed to be swept away by a gust of demonic wind, and disappeared into his sleeve in an instant, at this time he had 36 flying knives, as long as he was deceived into the silver dust again, then the next wave of attacks, or even two consecutive waves of attacks, would pour down on the silver dust.

"****! Hide quite fast, Lao Tzu wants to see how long you can dodge!" Zheng Bushuang yelled angrily while the mana under his feet rushed towards Yinchen again.

Silver Dust didn't speak, and this time there was a real surge of endless wind and snow in his pupils.

He raised his hand suddenly, and the wide sleeves drew a pitch-black, butterfly-like trace in the air, the black cuffs suddenly opened, and a series of movements were exactly the same as what Zheng Bushuang had just done. The temporary disciples who were watching couldn't help but sink in their hearts, this posture looked like a proper veteran.

They didn't know that before Zhang Mengmeng left last night, he taught Yinchen how to play this trick.

The black sleeve tube opened, but what flew out of it was not a flying knife, not a hidden weapon, or the 35 treasure-level plum blossom darts that Yinchen had refined with the "Remnant Soul Sutra" (filled with too many souls and was extremely powerful), but a whole Shura hell.

At that moment, everyone on the lookers was so stunned by the black streamer that they couldn't open their eyes. No one could have imagined that what flew out of the silver dust sleeve was thousands of pitch-black rays that were far brighter and more dazzling than the sun's rays.

Yes, a pitch-black glow, a pitch-black glow brighter than the sun. At that moment, a monstrous horror crushed the courage of all onlookers, it was a breath, as if it was facing the breath of endless pressure. The aura was serene and serene, although it was also dark, but there was no negative feeling such as chaos, bloodlust, rage, cruelty, decadence, etc., which was in the monks of the Demon Pavilion, only a sacred quiet, and a weight that was so arrogant that it could crush everything.

It was a simple sense of pressure, so simple that it didn't make any sense, simple, domineering, without any rigid or even any textured pressure, as if throwing everyone into a suffocating cage, and then completely crushing the entire cage The same sense of complete despair of oppression, and even this pressure can crush even despair.

Tens of thousands of black streamers completely enveloped Zheng Bushuang in the blink of an eye, there was no sound of sharp weapons entering the body, no sound of bones being crushed, no screams, no sound of Gangfeng's collision, all sounds seemed to have escaped from the world at this time, only silence, only in silence, the clear words spit out by Yinchen.

"A thousand hands go to the sky and forbid the big seal. ”

Ten thousand heroic lights, all of which were pitch black, fell silently and gorgeously, completely submerging Zheng Bushuang's figure in the black flow of light, and Zheng Bushuang himself had been forced to stand still by the monstrous terrifying weight, and even if he mobilized all the strength of his body, he couldn't move a single cent.

The flow of light did not penetrate Zheng Bushuang's body, it only spread out within a zhang around him, slowed down, and then silently exploded and decomposed, turning into thin and short filaments of light, and the black filaments of light twisted in the air, the distorted technique and the "Remnant Soul Sutra" The black filaments of light twisted into runes, and then these runes were arranged in series in mid-air, row by row, column by column, paragraph by paragraph, one by one Gabriel's spell verses appeared in this primitive world, in front of the big canteen in this deserted stronghold, in the morning sunlight that was not warm.

The black runes were arranged in rows, densely packed, and from a distance, they looked like black bands of light three fingers wide, and these pitch-black bands of light twisted and coiled in the air, encircling Zheng Bushuang in the middle, just like the iron cages made on the spot to hold slaves. These lines are linked in the air into rings, parabolas and hyperbolas, as well as some cross-shaped and hexagram stars, and the bands of light are intertwined back and forth, constructing increasingly complex and terrifying shapes and outlines, and finally combined into a magnificent and solemn three-dimensional magic array of dark atmosphere.

It's too late, it's fast, from the silver dust to the magic array is fully established, but in the blink of an eye. At this time, he was still five zhang away from Zheng Bushuang, but his strength could already affect Zheng Bushuang.

Distance, always the greatest advantage of the mage, when this advantage is no longer held back by the chanting time, the relative advantage becomes a decisive strength gap, and the strength here is not worth strength, but tactics, skill and awareness.

Zheng Bushuang couldn't move, and he didn't even react to what was going on, he only felt that he was swallowed up by a pitch-black light, and then in the dazzling black runes, he lost the strength of his whole body.