I can't finish killing. Three simple words are enough to make the toughest warrior despair.

Not to mention that these powerful flying ants are the most ordinary ants, the weakest mortals, if their numbers are endless and they will never be killed, where will people have the courage to fight them. The monk didn't know how many flying ants there were in Shisanlang, but he saw that every time there was an irreparable vacancy, more swarms would inevitably emerge.

Can't judge, can't measure, never end.

This is no longer a battle, but a torture, a painful torment like Ling Chi.

"Brute, you brute!" roared, the sky dragon struggled to swing three knives, and suddenly found that he was inexplicably missing four legs, and couldn't help but be stunned.

The difference is that the poison of the soul-disgusting ant is not directly fatal, nor is it intended to turn the opponent into soup and water, but to paralyze the opponent to facilitate the bite, or simply to facilitate the meal.

"Ah!" There were only a dozen or so of a hundred feet left, a shiny armor stained with mottled colors, and in some places there were openings, and a few fierce heads that were turning and fast-moving were hidden inside, and such a sight could not help but howl in the eyes.

It's a battle!

It's not a skill to learn from a family, but a fight for your life that can only be lived by you and me, and the monk fights with so many thoughts, and the result can be imagined.

"Slash Shura!"

With an angry roar, the sky centipede turned black in front of him, and countless swords suddenly appeared around him, either stabbing or chopping, or chopping or chopping, as if they wanted to cut it into corpses; there were also a few black-faced servants who looked like ghosts on the side, holding a killing rod and beating them all the way without a head or brain, and shouting nonsense such as "human criminals", "subjugation", and "great crimes", which made his head split. And I can't laugh or cry.

Ants move mountains, imperceptibly. The flying centipede unknowingly degenerated into a real seventh-level demonic beast, and it was already "misjudged" by the Shura Prison. and loaded.

Again, fighting with beasts, human cultivation will be killed as long as they don't come up, and they can be slowly sharpened with a steady stream of means. If Thirteen Lang didn't lack time to refine the treasures, if the number of treasures was compared with the total strength of the two sides, Hugh said that the current Impure King, even if his state returned to his full glory, was probably not enough for Mr. Eight Fingers to stuff his teeth.

On the trip to the outer lands, Thirteen Lang fought all the way. More than ten Yuanying monks were killed with his own hands, and if all their family resources were taken out and used one by one, the ancestors would tremble three times.

"Whew!"

In the miserable howl, the black box cracked, the silver mangs roared, dozens of sword rays collapsed nearly half, accompanied by a few scattered remnants, and the mouth was still chanting "The murderer is bold" and "The crime cannot be punished" and so on, which made the sky dragon ashamed and crazy. The dignified impure king, the disciple of the mountain king, the power to be looked up to. When did you suffer this humiliation.

Looking at the flying centipede again, the body several zhang long was covered with sword marks, and at least three places were almost slashed, loosely connected together. Desolate, miserable, miserable, and a little tragic of the hero's end.

"Under the mountain monarch's door, you can kill but not humiliate!"

"It's you who insult you. Kill!"

Thirteen Lang is also crazy, a new type of flying ant that he has worked so hard to cultivate. The First World War was almost completely strangled, which drove him mad at the nature of a miser. Flying Ant Hentai is only a theoretical value. As the queen's level increases, so does the interval and cost of each egg lay. Frequent egg laying is not impossible, and it is bound to make the growth of the queen ant, or even regressive. These flying ants were his preparation for the trip to the Blood Domain, and he originally planned to use the next time to focus on cultivating the existence of a special class. Now it's good, nearly 40,000 flying ants continue to stuff into that bottomless pit, and only less than 20% remains.

This is still an impure king who is almost crippled, and what will happen if he is faced with true power?

"Damn, that's it!"

The stronger the enemy, the more ruthless I become, the more crazy the opponent can only suppress it; in the roar, the remnants of the flying ants are all released, like a dense cloud of silver and black swarming, locking the centipede that is scurrying up and down and struggling for its life in the center.

"Ignorant child, you are looking for death by yourself!"

The body is mutilated, wrapped by a swarm of ants, there is no way to enter the heavens and no door to the earth, but the flying centipede calms down, and finally admits identity, it twists into a ball, and then spun rapidly like a spinning top for three weeks, and then let out a cry, unexpectedly

Transform into a human form again!

"Jun!"

The treasure is solemn, the face is painted with golden light, the eight arms are bent, and the golden armor is carried behind the back, which is really majestic. His eyes were as merciful as those of a god and a Buddha, and like a king overlooking the people of the world, and there was a slight hint of madness on his indifferent face, otherwise there was no trace of demonic beasts. It is a pity that his body is more than half shorter out of thin air, his face is yellow and thin, and his chest and abdomen are covered with mottled wounds, which are healing at a visible speed.

"Pro!"

The Buddha's voice was released again, and the body of the Impure King seemed to have healed, and all around him were shrouded in Buddha's light, like a golden ball. The clouds composed of flying ants kept impacting, but they couldn't break through the barrier of Buddha's light, and they frequently turned into green smoke.

"Malnutrition?"

Thirteen Lang was still laughing, his heart was already shocked by the monk's momentum, and he was secretly vigilant.

In the battle of that year, the old ancestor shot with all his might, and the supernatural power turned into a mountain to suppress it, how heroic and invincible it was; and the old dean fought to the death, and the human-faced spider shouted to reign over the world, and at the same time cracked the lore of the two top powers in the world, although they were hit hard, they could especially escape away. In today's battle, the impure monk shouted the word King's Landing when facing the first round of raids, and he didn't feel how powerful he was at the time, but compared with now, Thirteen Lang knew that it was just a small half-way supernatural power, and most of them were a little tired.

Waving nearly half of the flying ants to retract and block in front of him, Thirteen Lang ordered the rest of the people to keep forgetting to die, and said in his mouth: "This is going to be desperate?

All great powers have life-fighting techniques, just look at when to use them. Thirteen Lang was not arrogant enough to think that he would be able to take the life of the flying dragon with a quick attack, and seemed to laugh lightly, and his heart was ready to play with his life and even die.

This is his battle, his first battle with the great power, intrigue is only the auxiliary, and the fighting spirit is the first.

"Oh my God!"

The Buddha's light is vast but not pure, the air seems to be lit up with a round of sun, and the mixed silver rays struggle in it, the fierceness is not there, but it seems to become its splendid embellishment. Looking through the air, the body of the Impure King shrank again, and the three-foot boy body stretched out eight thin and almost dry hands

"Down!"

The voice was hoarse, and he couldn't tell whether it was "down" or "shrimp", if he looked at it from the perspective of Thirteen Lang, the eyes of the impure monk at this time were like copper bells almost out of his sockets, just like a roaring and angry shrimp.

The pressure of the flood came to the face, and the surrounding overhaul was difficult to gain a foothold, and they all changed color and retreated. Mr. Eight Fingers looked slowly calm, took a deep breath, and sat on his knees with his palms together, like a boy worshipping Buddha.

"Fight fakes!" said Thirteen Langqing.

"Demon slaying!" the monk roared.

In the line of sight, everything around is still, and only the two people remain, two rays of light, two horizontal bridges that spread rapidly and approach, and the flying mangs in the middle of the self-sacrifice to protect the Lord.

The Buddha's light crashed into the ant colony, making a clanging sound like thousands of swords clashing, and a majestic divine thought was hidden in the ant colony like a needle, piercing into the Buddha's light under the sacrifice of countless descendants of the guards, and viciously pierced the mind of the impure king.

"Ahh

This is supposed to be the queen's first attack since birth, and the god is incarnated. Except for it, an alien demon insect that is born to command tens of millions of people, who has such an ability. As if his mind had been pricked by a needle, the Impure King screamed in a slight frustration, and his eyes suddenly froze.

There was a flash of light, a fierce, violent, and cold arc. At the moment of the decisive battle, Mr. Eight Fingers finally released a lore method, and the thunder of the sky descended on the world.

There is no space or world to dodge, the Impure King has just been pricked by the queen ant, and the pain in his mind is unbearable, and he just wants to tilt his head, but he finds that the other party's figure has accelerated again, and he pounced in front of him at an indescribable speed, and a soft drink came from his ears at the same time, and a cold snort from behind him.

"Definitely!"

"Blood to the Soul!"

Sizzle.

The back of his heart seemed to be held with a sharp knife, and the Blood Dancer only made a sound without making a move, but it was enough to make his position palpitate, and his movements were inevitably paused. In the next moment, the arm-thick arc of lightning rushed in with the thin Buddha light that had been hit by countless flying ants with their bodies, tearing through the three-foot distance of Zuihou, and reaching the face of the Impure King.

Not enough!

Seeing that arc of electricity annihilated in unwillingness, he only had time to stroke his skull, bringing a trace of tingling, and lifted his shriveled face, revealing the scarlet flesh and white bones inside.

"It's not enough!

A smug smile froze on his face, and the numb feeling didn't have time to subside, and the Impure King watched as a sword suddenly appeared in Thirteen Lang's hands, a sword that was brighter than an arc, more domineering than thunder, older than vicissitudes, prouder than the person holding it, and more fierce, ruthless, stubborn, desperate, and decisive sword!

It was a feeling of grievance.

The sword is known to have a spirit, and a few people also know that the spirit sword has its own pride, and disdain to use it for someone, disdain to kill an enemy, or both.

The Impure King understood the sword. It felt that the person holding it was too weak to sacrifice the flying sword, and it felt that the opponent it was about to face was too weak, too weak to be, or simply tarnished its majesty.

Mr. Eight Fingers put his palms together with his sword, his mana, his eyes, and his mental and physical strength were all condensed on the body of the sword that was as bright as autumn water, and his expression revealed a bit of sacredness. He didn't look at his opponent at all, and he didn't have the strength to look at his opponent, he concentrated on his hand, the sword in his hand, all the way forward, all the way through, and slashed into two pieces.

The tiger bullying the rabbit, the evil dragon teasing the swimming fish, the cannon beating the mosquito, and many other feelings came to his heart, and the impure king couldn't understand how he felt, and couldn't help but think in his heart.

"Dead liar, isn't this bullying?"

(To be continued......)