A duel that could have been a great one ended in twos and threes. The monks who watched www.biquge.info the pen "Fun" Pavilion did not feel unfinished, but only felt a panic. The killing dao, almost the same level as Wan Jianxin's killing dao, emanated from the arrogant Du Chuanchang, and enveloped the audience like a natural disaster.

The back of the chief disciple of the Poison Dragon Sect became so lonely at this time, like a lonely peak of strange rocks that could not be approached. Du Chuanchang's perfect body no longer exudes the charm that obsesses women at this time, but only exudes a death-like aura.

Wang Shenhai in the crowd looked at his back at this time, and a whole world of panic was frozen in his stomach. Fear and despair, mixed with remorse and humiliation, spread wildly through his nervous system, as if a coup had broken out within him. Wang Shenhai was very soberly aware at this moment that the bright future he had been looking forward to, the good wish that he and his fathers and fellow villagers had been looking forward to, to make him a small official and thus obtain the privileges of other poor people, was shattered into ashes in front of his eyes when he entered the Blood Prison, to be precise, the moment the Holy Water Sect was completely wiped out in the Blood Prison.

Getting promoted or making a fortune has now become a complete fantasy. With Wang Shenhai's little strength, in this bloody prison, I am afraid that it is impossible to even survive, what kind of glory and wealth can we talk about? Although he is known as the third seat of the Divine Sword Sect, but in the circle of monks who are full of talents, can his strength rank among the top three hundred young monks? I am afraid that he himself does not have this confidence.

After surviving the initial fear and despair for 60 seconds, Wang Shenhai, who calmed down, could only feel remorse that was more difficult than despair. His stomach was heavy, his throat was tight, he wanted to vomit, but he didn't know what to vomit, he wanted to shout, but he didn't have the courage to open his mouth to speak. At this time, he could not suppress and longing for Wan Jianxin, the indifferent and deceitful senior brother surnamed Wan, the hot and soft heart under the indifferent and strict appearance of the senior brother, and the almost absolute, almost god-like sense of security that his back had brought to his small self. That kind of warm sense of security, that kind of security that is enough to make him calm in front of the masters of the Convergence Dao, Fang Tianhang has no ability to give it to him, Senior Aunt Mingquan has no ability to give it to him, and even Wang Shenhai stubbornly feels that except for Wan Jian Xin, there is probably no one in this world who can give it to him anymore. He used to feel that the so-called sense of security was not important, he used to feel that he could break through the tall image left in his heart by Wan Jianxin and stand up and take charge of himself, but at this moment, he finally understood how important that sense of security was when he was in the blood prison.

The bloody prison is locked and surrounded by strong enemies. Wang Shenhai, who was born in a mountain village in the southwest, has experienced a snowy winter, but he has never felt such cold. His calves and stomach were shaking all the time, never stopping, but it was clearly not because the temperature around him was too low, in fact, the blood beads were always shrouded in a drowsy and stuffy heat, and the walls and floors made of flesh and blood seemed to really emit a little heat like the internal organs of warm-blooded animals. In this environment that is enough to make people sweat with a layer of sticky heat, Wang Shenhai's legs trembled, and the hairs on his body stood on end, as if he was in the winter of extinction. He felt cold, a chill called Isolation was engulfing him whole.

At this moment, in addition to the heavily armored warriors of the Demon Realm Gate, there are the most disciples of the Divine Sword Sect. In the past, when Wan Jianxin was still the common senior brother of these people, these disciples of the Divine Sword Sect would definitely quickly organize and unite as one, becoming the most powerful force among the monks. However, this kind of spiritual power that can unite anytime and anywhere and sacrifice the ego to achieve the great collective of the Divine Sword Sect collapsed and completely disappeared in the hearts of the disciples of the Divine Sword Sect after Fang Tianhang designed to drive away Wan Jian Xin. Since then, the disciples of the Divine Sword Sect, including those who play in the deep sea, have no longer slashed demons and demons, but promoted to become wealthy, and no longer all of them are united in dealing with the dangers of the world, but how to climb higher by stepping on the accumulated white bones of the same sect. When they broke into the first Purple Blood Hall, the disciples of the Divine Sword Sect began to kill each other without hesitation or mercy, and used the blood of the three hundred junior sisters to open the first door leading to the Purple Blood Temple. And at this moment, these disciples of the Divine Sword Sect who were lucky enough to survive until now had already gradually distanced themselves from each other under the pressure of the zero-sum game, and they were even pulling out the sharp blades that were originally used to cut the evil path from each other again.

Not far in front of Wang Shenhai, two disciples of the Divine Sword Sect began a bloody battle.

At the moment when the swords staggered, the light of thunder and lightning illuminated Wang Shenhai's face, making his expression look more like a powerful ghost with a blue face and fangs. Wang Shenhai looked numbly at the wonderful duel in front of him, only to feel that the bone-eating chill called isolation and helplessness became heavier and heavier, and finally almost turned into a snow-capped mountain-like pressure. He knew why he was cold, he knew why his bowels were poisoned by remorse, why he was choked by fear, why he was filled with despair. He was completely alone at this moment. His fellow disciples, his brothers, had already betrayed him at this moment, and even Fang Tianhang, whom he once regarded as depending, was no longer reliable. In the Divine Sword Sect, it was not Fang Tianhang, the official fan who always felt good about himself, who really felt betrayed, but Wang Shenhai, who was short and thoughtful. He knew that he was now at an all-conquering place, and everything that he had once relied on had now turned into a sharp blade, and he was stabbing at him without hesitation.

"Senior Brother Wan, if you can ...... it" Wang Shenhai muttered in a low voice, and then fell to his knees like a collapse, crying like a sad girl, Du Chuanchang's stomach was churning in that posture, and he quickly looked away. Wang Shenhai's tears contained too much helplessness and too much remorse, he never thought that not long after he betrayed Wan Jianxin and betrayed the most perfect and worthy of worship in his heart, those juniors who worshiped and trusted him betrayed themselves without hesitation and without a little struggle in their hearts.

This retribution is coming too soon, isn't it?

Wang Shenhai, who was kneeling on the ground, didn't notice that a purple-red light curtain had been erected around him, isolating him from the others. Maybe for the Purple Wind Scattered people, those who lose the will to fight can be regarded as losers.

The blood fight, just after Fang Tianhang fell, unfolded like an explosion among all the monks who could still continue to act. Du Chuanchang, Liang Yunguang, Woe, even Zhenwu, and even some unnamed Demon Dao Cultivators, all took the initiative with a clear goal, and became more and more courageous in the bloody battle, and fought and advanced. The cold poisonous hand skills, the rotten ghost yuan palm, the storm-like and swift chain slash, as well as the chains, the flying hammer smashing the brain, the sword piercing the heart, all kinds of moves that can harvest human lives at the fastest speed have appeared. When the swords intersect, there is always thunder and lightning, and when the fists collide, there are always reading materials, and the souls are entangled, and even the golden iron bell rings. Bloody limbs and broken organs exploded at the moment of these moves, scattering in all directions, and at other times, the light that lit up in the blood prison was only an arc or straight line that the pig iron weapon reflected against the blood-colored environment.

After the "Heavenly Change", the monk war in the Xuanxuan mode was less miserable and colorful, and more rough and rough and flesh flying directly, and the degree of gorgeousness was not reduced back then.

In the blood prison, everyone in the Demon Dao is vying to be the first, regardless of their own strength, regardless of whether they can survive to the end, first "kill" a few people to vent. In the righteous path, the disciples of some small and medium-sized sects led by the Iron Sword Sect also rushed towards the demon path people like crazy, no matter what the outcome was, regardless of whether they had their lives in the next second, in short, before they breathed, as a person of the righteous path, it was a responsibility that must be fulfilled to kill demons and eliminate demons. Only the Divine Sword Sect and the Iron Palm Gang, which supported half the sky in the righteous path, seemed to have lost their souls in such a desperate situation, and the disciples under the sect either killed each other or curled up resignedly, without the slightest boldness and fortitude of the righteous people. Its performance is not even as good as that of a small sect like the Demon Spear Gate, at least people are willing to fight for the chance of survival that only exists on theory.

For a while, the wind in the blood prison surged, the knives and guns flickered, and although the transparent Gangfeng did not have too dazzling visual effects, the bloody fist to the flesh fight was still full of a tragic and violent aesthetics. On the soft earth, almost everyone scrambled to be the first, roaring and scolding and fighting, the loser fell to the ground, and the winner took a short break and then fought bravely, not caring about Wang Shenhai who knelt down, Fang Tianhang who lay down and Yinchen who fell down. These three people are obviously the first wastes to be eliminated from the game, no one will think of Wang Shenhai's wonderful swordsmanship at this time, the name of the first young master under Fang Tianspace, and the enviable cultivation and skills of the silver-haired boy.

Silver Dust lay silently on the ground from beginning to end, like a corpse.

No one cared about him, and the monks thought he was a dead man, a useless loser. Because the Purple Wind Scattered People couldn't feel the energy fluctuations in his body, they completely ignored him. The other monks, including Feng Lieshan Zhenwu, who were old and sophisticated, regarded him as a complete loser and garbage, and naturally didn't care about his state at this time. In any case, he was suppressed by the uncertain turmoil at this time.

Of course, it would be nice if things were really as simple as Feng Lieshan and his ilk imagined.

The so-called uncertain storm of the Purple Wind Scattered people is actually nothing more than a weakened version of the uncertain turmoil, which is nothing more than a wind seal/lock-type polyelement, not a heavy wind that will never recede at the cost of Hu Badheart's life. After Silver Dust fell, he took out the terminal from the arcane space while no one was paying attention, and tried to hack it.

Before this, he had directly launched hacking magic, wanting to achieve some purpose by hacking other people's divine weapons, and he even thought of directly hacking into the weapon box behind Zifeng Sanren, but when he began to scan the port, he accidentally found that the so-called uncertain storm on his body could be hacked, or the uncertain storm itself was a regular form similar to the entrance to the secret realm, and there was also a port that could be accessed. He found out about this and changed his plans.

At this point, he had no way to operate the computer, because the laptop was not a magic item at all, and even if it was equipped with an alchemy battery, it could only be operated with his fingers. At this time, the only computing device that Silver Dust can rely on is the terminal.

"hackin" Silver Dust thought silently in his heart, the square in his hand emitting an inconspicuous golden light, and then fell silent again. The uncertain storm sent out by the Purple Wind Scatterer was very powerful, but the structural strength was quite bad, and Silver Dust completed a few lines of code in his mind before he was hacked into success. The process went so smoothly that even he was surprised.

“SUDOPOWEROFF!” Yinchen couldn't control much at this time, so he hurriedly entered the command to turn off the uncertain storm on his body, and then added a layer of undercurrent demon shield to himself, although it was completely useless to the Zifeng Sanren, but at least it could block the attacks of others except Feng Lieshan and Wei Wuliang.

Better than nothing.

No, it's not better than nothing, it's a must. Magicians without the protection of magic shields have the same strength as ordinary people, not to mention weapons filled with gangfeng, even a stone that suddenly falls from the top of their heads can directly kill the mage, so anywhere in the "wild", magicians must ensure that they have at least one layer of magic shield protection. Otherwise, let alone a melee monk, even a well-trained ordinary person could stab a mage to death with a single blow.

Magic shield, which in most cases is directly equivalent to the life of a mage.

The Silver Dust Mage stopped when he had done all this. Of course, he knew that it would be a thankless task to make a rash move in such a chaotic situation at the moment. He needed to wait, he needed to wait for these crappy monks to kill each other to the last one, and then jump up and snatch the fruits of victory.

As a mage, Silver Dust would never have thought that the Purple Wind Scatter would be so kind to let anyone here go. Before the final victor walks out of here "alive", he will definitely be cursed or do something by the Zifeng Sanren, and it is absolutely impossible for him to get out of the way. He had never expected to encounter any easy "levels" in this Purple Blood Temple. He threw himself to the ground, prostrate and "chewing the bitter ashes of defeat" like Satan who had been thrown into hell by the Lord, in fact carefully estimating the situation every minute and every second, while accumulating energy at all costs through the four elemental realms. (To be continued.) )