Under the sword, the sound is like a monstrous wave, shocking the vast thorns.

All the disciples were startled, and their bodies involuntarily retreated, just wanting to get as far away as possible from the general of the Yuanmeng, but it was already too late.

The generals seemed to have known that they were going to run, and when they broke into the army, they had already sent their soldiers to intercept them around, relying on the strength of the crowd, regardless of the damage, and rushed forward in groups of three or five.

Although the attack power of the enemy soldiers was much weaker than that of these disciples, the speed of their feet was not slow at all, and it could even be said that it was much faster.

Everyone seemed to have a standard mark on their feet that was specially used for rapid marching, and they played a huge role in the pursuit, constantly dividing the team into warbands of different sizes, individual or several people, and destroying them layer by layer.

In times of war, it is most taboo to be alone.

Once any disciple is left alone, he will have to face a siege of as few as three or as many as five soldiers, even if their strength is much more than the place, but in the face of large-scale pursuit, they can only passively resist, or even be hanged and killed.

The battle situation is like a whale sea with a mighty wave, and the collapse is like a wolf rolling a storm.

In the face of the rout, this disciple had no discipline at all, blindly ran away, and did not care about the situation behind him, as one disciple after another died and was eliminated, everyone's faces became uneasy and depressed, and many people even cursed.

"Yuan Lang of the dog day, curse your ancestors for eighteen generations to have children without eyes!"

"Wait until the next game is over, it's up to you to get out of here!"

"The brothers who are dead and eliminated will gather together after the meeting, and we will go to beat that girl together!"

......

However, the cursing could not stop their deaths, from one or two, to five or six, seven or eight pieces of death, the disciple army had begun to crumble and go to extinction, and the remaining hundreds of disciples seemed to know the fate of imminent elimination, and they no longer ran, besieging the city one by one, back to back to make the last resistance.

In the face of more and more enemy soldiers and generals around them, their eyes were full of unwillingness and despair.

Is this the end of the biennial refining conference?

Unwilling, really unwilling, but what if you are unwilling?

The leaders have all run away by themselves, what can they do for these ordinary disciples?

Many people have already put down their weapons and directly chose to be killed, and some fierce disciples even detonated the seal and died with the other party.

Only a few hundred remaining, who were still making the last standing, had their share of efforts at the last minute of the conference.

At that moment, there was a whistling sound in the distance, as if something was running towards it.

Someone looked over, only to see the withered grass and fallen leaves flying all over the sky in the distance, and a wind and wave came from the sky, blowing away the dust and blowing away the murderous and pathetic desolation.

"Could it be that reinforcements have arrived?"

Some people exclaimed, and more people seemed to have been injected with vitality fluid, regained their motivation, and stubbornly withstood the impact of the other party.

It's just that the prosperity is gone, and the shadow is about to come out.

Looking closely, a young man was striding towards this side, surrounded by dust, lightning and thunder, cold and miserable.

Seeing that there was only one person, the vitality that everyone had just radiated was once again scattered, and they returned to the lonely dilemma just now.

"What can a teenager do?

"Can't he see that we've been defeated?

"Whatever, it's cool to kill him at the last moment anyway, you don't lose money by killing one, you can earn one by killing two!"

......

Everyone continued to fight to the death at the last moment, everyone was full of knives, and one of them had his neck opened, and his head couldn't stop hanging down, almost falling off, but he still held on and didn't let his head fall off his neck, maintaining a glimmer of life.

They don't know what is the motivation to maintain it, to get more people to notice them, or to paint a perfect memorial to their Printing career?

I don't know, I really don't know.

Many people live just to live, learn to cast for a living, there are no more ideas at all, and their lives are muddy, either following others and working hard, or they have to live a lifetime.

Mortals naturally have the easiest way to live, and that is plain.

There is nothing wrong with ordinary life, but there is a little less perseverance and a little less change.

These people are tantamount to having a dull life, their qualifications are not as good as Yuan Lang and them, and their net worth and wealth are not as much as theirs, they are more than less than the bottom, they can't say that they are worse, but they definitely can't be said to be the best.

Ending like this, fighting to the last moment, is already a very glorious thing, even if it returns to the family, it is worth writing about and becoming the most glorious stroke in life.

However, there are still many exceptions in this world after all, and Xiang Mo is naturally one of them.

He has poor qualifications, let alone wealth support, and even became an enemy of his family, becoming a commoner, and even offending many people and enemies of many masters.

If it is dull in such a predicament, I am afraid that he will not see the sun tomorrow at all, so he can only choose to work hard.

Work hard for yourself, work hard for tomorrow, work hard if you have a challenge, and work hard if you don't have a challenge to sit and study the Indian method.

Now, the war situation is in crisis, and as a disciple army, he needs to work hard.

So, he drew his sword.

The sword walks the sky, the ground, and the people, flying invisibly and flashing in the tangible.

After the sword is out, the branches do not move, the leaves do not shake, and the flowers are reaped; The moon stopped, the clouds rested, the birds fled, the water did not flow, the fish dived to the bottom, the shrimp fell into the mud, and even the air froze.

The moon is bright, the stars are sparse, the wind blows the willow waist, the clouds are at the eaves corner, the boat shadow is oblique, and the water is bridge-shaped.

A boat with a long coat, a drunk with a long sword.

Everyone only felt that their eyes were white, as if the sun had descended on the world, and everything was sprinkled with bright brilliance, and their eyes instantly lost their visual sense.

Time seems to have passed very long, but it has been very short, and the surroundings are still the same as before, but it is as if something has happened.

However, everything will eventually be like a clear and sunny day.

Several iron men fell abruptly in front of them, as if they were pulled by some force, and then their heads were broken, which made people feel very weird.

The other iron men paused, looked at the young man who had stood out from the crowd, turned around, and rushed towards him.

Xiang Mo didn't panic when he saw this, and shouted:

"Good time!"

He pulled up his right leg and took a step forward, but his body leaned to the left, and the flying sword moved sideways, turning over along his arm and stabbing into the neck of a soldier.

A soldier who was close hurriedly waved his long knife and slashed towards him, but he didn't want to split into the air, so he scraped towards Mo Tieren's side.

But this splitting of the air killed him, Xiang Mo's flying sword still followed the trajectory of the long knife to the door of his head, and with a slight pick, he picked his head in two, split it from the middle, and crooked it on both sides.

But at this time, there was no chance to mend the knife to Xiang Mo, and another soldier drew his knife from behind and slashed, and wherever the knife went, Xiang Mo was firmly locked, and the print emitted a fiery red bloodthirsty brilliance, like a fish in the throat.

Xiang Mo smiled slightly, raised his left hand and grabbed the long knife of the soldier with the split head in front of him, and took advantage of the pull behind him, and the soldier involuntarily slashed towards the long knife behind Mo, and crashed into the blade of the knife without accident.

Xiang Mo didn't wait for the soldier behind him to draw his sword and slash again, and a swallow turned over and raised his long sword to slash horizontally.

Although the soldier was trapped with a long knife, he was very good at reflecting, and he immediately wanted to bow his head to dodge, but how could he let Mo bow his head, the long sword was actually restrained in mid-air, and he slapped him aside with the sword body.

At this moment, another long knife reached from the lower end and slashed straight at the back of Mo's head.

This long knife came very abruptly, but the timing was quite accurate, not sooner or later, it was just the moment when Xiang Mo's soldier's head was crooked, and there was no time to return the sword to resist.

This knife passed, even if it couldn't kill Xiang Mo's iron man, it could at least split his skull.

But Xiang Mo's head was like an eye, and his body turned into a leaf, and he turned around the long knife of the two people who were subdued in front of him, and from above to below, one turned over and raised his foot, kicking the sneak attacker and flying out.

Although this blow did not cause fatal damage to the other party, it still resolved the danger at hand, and a kind of children around him applauded and shouted:

"Good!" "Beautiful. "Awesome!"

Xiang Mo didn't have the time to talk to them, his body had already rushed out at this kick, and his feet stepped back sharply, kicking the two out of the air and crashing into the crowd behind him, and he rushed into the arms of the soldier in front of him without hesitation.

At the moment when he just fell in, several long knives had already slashed at the soldier's body, and in an instant, the soldier seemed to be delayed, and the armor and iron pieces on his body fell like rain, and even his head flew out.

But the soldiers around him did not have any sympathy or pity, and continued to raise their knives and greet Mo.

It's just that when they swung the knife again, Xiang Mo had already disappeared, and at some point, he had already come to the top of this group of people.

In the blink of an eye, the kung fu sword swept around like a spiral blade, and the heads of countless soldiers fell off at that moment, and its speed was not at all something that these soldiers could reflect.

All this happened so fast, it was so fast that the head fell off, and everyone didn't have time to find Xiang Mo's figure.

At the same time, in a hut on the first floor of the Refining Immortal Pavilion, an old man with his hands full of printing lines had a condensed face, looked at one of his little fingers, and many lines on it lost contact with him in an instant, and he couldn't help but show a different color, and looked up at a mirror in front of him, and the young man with a fluttering figure and a delicate face couldn't help but smile and said:

"Good boy, his skills are really good, but it's still too early to take this canyon!"

He once again stirred his thumb and passed on a thought from the past.