Chapter 130 poof

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Xia He swung the knife, and the knife fell on the red mist as soft as water, lingering like a lover, and as hard as an iron cable, and it couldn't splash a ripple. Pen, fun, and www.biquge.info

I don't know who is wielding a gun, Xia He can't see that person, he can only see the gun, that gun he has seen before, or he can call it a wooden stick, a wooden stick used by the owner of the flower family to kill people, and the twenty-four petals at the front end of the wooden staff are still so sharp.

Although its owner was dead, the wooden staff seemed to have come to life, and the petals that shimmered with cold light were its eyes, and its eyes were staring at one place with all their might, as if they wanted to see through it.

Maybe it can't see through that, but it can pierce there.

Because the place it looks at is just a very thin place, which can be used to describe a plank, or a wall, or a person.

The person it was going to pierce was just an ordinary person, and a skinny little girl.

The fair-skinned but skinny little girl always looks thinner than usual when she encounters such a powerful weapon that has killed many people, probably because in the face of death, no matter how big a hero stands up to the sky and the earth, or an ordinary little maid, she is weak and thin.

Because the shadow of death is too heavy, too strong.

The wooden staff seemed to understand this truth, so it became more and more uncontrollable, and with a full of rampant and bloody body, it stabbed the little girl who was half covered by red flowers.

Of course, the little girl can't escape, because her body has long been surrounded by those lovely red flowers, she can't escape, because she escaped, how can she let Xia He save her?

Since he couldn't escape, the mahogany staff was so imposing, and even Xia He's momentum of stirring up the true yuan was far less powerful than the momentum carried by the mahogany staff.

Although Xia He is a top powerhouse in the Fourth Realm, he is facing those souls who have lived for a hundred years, maybe they are not very powerful cultivators in their lifetimes, but as said before, time is always fair, for everyone, and the same is true for those souls.

In a hundred years, no one knows how much power has been accumulated to make cultivators crazy, only the flowers that grow here, and only the fish that grow in that river.

In short, no matter how hard Xia He tried and how he stirred up the true essence of his whole body, he still kept cutting the red mist that was not a lover but was better than a lover.

And the mahogany staff used to be just a powerful weapon that was stained with the blood of countless people, and those filthy qi condensed in the body, but now it is superimposed with the power of red flowers, and it is only facing a little girl who does not know how to practice, a little girl who can only cry in the face of death.

So the mahogany staff easily pierced the little girl's slightly thin chest.

The iron flower on the wooden staff added another bit of blood, this time it was the sweet blood of the girl.

And there was a little more blood in Xia He's eyes, it was Xia He's own blood, left along his eyes, it was his heart's blood.

Red Mist never tried to block Xia He's vision, as if he was deliberately trying to let him see all this clearly, and see clearly how the most important person in his heart died under a wooden staff.

The third dead person Xia He saw today was his sister.

Xia He saw the wooden staff spinning and piercing into Xiao Lian's chest, like a sharp knife piercing a piece of paper.

Burst!

That kind of voice should not be heard, but Xia He clearly heard that kind of voice, how loud that sound was, overshadowing those incessant roars, overshadowing the sound of the knife in Xia He's hand falling to the ground, overshadowing the sigh coming from nowhere, and also overshadowing Xia He's inner voice.

The voices were only foils to the faint but lost voices that represented the most important thing.

Xia He heard such a similar voice for the third time.

I had heard it twice before I arrived in Dayin, and I heard it again today.

Maybe it's the last time.

Today is a bit louder, perhaps because today is the last.

The iron flower at the front of the wooden staff had twenty-four petals, but it killed more than twenty-four people, and each time it killed, the twenty-four petals pierced into the man's chest at the same time, and the blood did not flow out quickly at first, because the blood was blocked by the iron flower hidden below the skin.

Then the staff spun and splattered with blood, and then the real blood could be seen, stained with the staff, and soaked the clothes of the murderer and the slain.

At that time, no matter how luxurious the garment was, it was just rags, rags that were torn when they were torn on the body.

At that time, no matter how good the person with the wooden staff was, was only a murderer, a murderer who took the life of others.

At that time, no matter how ugly the people who lay there were just dead people, and dead people had nothing to say.

For the dead do not speak.

But the dead look at people.

The way the dead look at people is very scary, because they can only look at people in one way, and that is also the way the living can't learn to look at people, that is, staring at death.

I'm staring at you like this, staring at you, staring at me until I'm going to die.

That's a dead stare.

Xiao Lian also stared at Xia He like this, staring at Xia He, there was only sadness in her beautiful eyes, only resentment, sadness was her own death, and resentment was that Xia He was alive but didn't save herself.

She didn't seem to see the red mist trapped on her brother's body, she only thought that her brother saw that she was going to die, but she didn't come to the rescue.

She could even see the black knife in her brother's hand, and she would even think that her brother wanted to kill her, using the black knife that had never stained blood.

She couldn't see the mahogany staff that was still on her chest sucking her blood, she just stared at Xia He until she died.

Xia He also stopped there and looked at her stupidly?

No, it's not.

Xia He was still wielding the knife, although he didn't take another look at the red mist on his body, he just, and just wanted to keep looking at his sister.

When the knife fell again, the red mist had disappeared, as if the infatuated lover had finally let go, the black knife disappeared without touching anything, and the red flower on Xiao Lian's body also disappeared with the disappearance of the black knife, only the wooden staff that had killed countless people stood there alone.

Xia He flew away, no longer with the fluttering demeanor of the past, he just wanted to be faster, faster, fast enough to see if he could save his sister.

But what I started with was only dead things, real dead things.

When a person dies, he is a dead thing.

The blood and tears left by Xia He were mixed with the blood flowing from the wounds on Xiao Lian's body, which was very dazzling.

A terrible wail followed.

said that it was terrible, but no one could hear the sound of wailing, because Xia He was already silent, and sometimes only a silent wail could reveal real grief.

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Good luck to you, this chapter won't be anyone's end, but I'm very sad to write, well, for the sake of me being so sad, let's have a few recommendation votes to comfort my wounded heart!