There were few golden eagles behind him, and Thirteen Lang was running in the jungle.

Thirty miles later, even the most persistent birds finally gave up, screamed a few times and turned around. The whistling sound seems to be a warning, as if it is sighing, or to express a kind of admiration and admiration, with inexplicable intentions.

Chasing thousands of miles, these most vengeful demon birds also have to admit one thing, the human in front of them is too troublesome, too annoying, and too helpless.

He first found a companion who was not afraid of death, and rushed into the eagle's nest with the golden eagle, attracting the attention of most of the golden eagles, while he himself took the opportunity to capture a young eagle and ran away desperately.

After that, it was a long pursuit.

This pursuit, Thirteen Lang is certainly embarrassed, the golden eagle has not suffered less, three thousand miles of chasing, he is sometimes fast, sometimes slow, sometimes slow, sometimes hidden, igniting the endless anger of the golden eagle at the same time, but also let them see the shamelessness of human beings, as well as outrageous endurance and determination.

After several chases and repeated defeats, the eagle group finally recaptured the young son, but they also had to admit that the idea of catching that hateful enemy was ultimately in vain, and they had long felt bored in their hearts, and a sense of powerlessness swelled up.

Crucially, they are already too far from home. The shili of the golden eagle is so far away that they can already see the edge of the reckless mountains, and they can't help but worry about the safety of their nests.

The Ancestor himself took the young eagles back, and the group of eagles then made a pretense, like the human who tried to steal his favorite human to express his strength and majesty, and returned one by one.

It is worth mentioning that they did not pass through the Demon Waterfall again, and there was a special fluctuation in that place, as strong as a group of eagles, and they did not want to approach easily.

The eagle group is gone, but Thirteen Lang can't rest, and the thousand-mile chase has exhausted the eagle group's physical strength and patience. He had to retreat, but for him, it was only a prelude to the battle, a means to prevent the worst, nothing more!

The overall situation was initially decided, and now the battlefield was only him and those monks. There will be no interference.

The whistling in the sky was gradually audible, and three long rainbows appeared in the distant sky one after another, no more than a few thousand meters away from each other, rushing towards this direction at an unimaginable speed. Thirteen Lang seemed to be able to see their haggard faces, tired and vicious eyes, and he was also tired and his spirits were lifted, and his eyes couldn't contain the vigorous battle intent, as well as the determination to kill.

After more than ten days of planning, it was finally time to open the hole cards. Thirteen Lang worked hard to plan all this, and the pressure in his heart was beyond the imagination of others.

Such pressure, once released, is enough to puncture the sky, enough to flatten the earth.

No longer hidden, without any conspiracy, Thirteen Lang was burned red by the fire of war in his chest and endured to the limit.

It's okay for spirits and demons to join forces. Cooperation between the two ethnic groups is, in the final analysis, a last resort in a situation of last resort. The few swallowtail monks in front of him, every wounded was stained with the blood of the spiritual cultivator, in other words, they were all mortal enemies.

Even if it was once!

He wants to fight with dignity, let the wind of the battlefield cheer for him, and wash away the weary with the blood of the enemy. Reap the fruits that you should and must get.

His body floated in the air, stepping on the clouds and mist, sword in his hand, and raising his voice to drink.

"Let's fight!"

......

......

Swallow bone, a slightly strange name, is extremely close to its image character. He was like a long, thin bone, and his eyes glowed with a yellowish brown light, the same color as the bones...... The kind that has been put long.

Among the three people, Yan Gu was the person closest to Yan Qingqing, and he had vaguely heard the movement here, and when he took a look, he only saw a hazy black cloud in the distance, and he couldn't identify its shape.

In confusion, Yan Gu received a warning talisman and realized that the torment of more than ten days was coming to an end, like Yan Qingqing, he was vigilant and surprised, and immediately rushed to the scene.

Several people had already set a strategy, once they found the enemy's traces, no matter what their strength was, they would focus on entanglement, and when the others arrived, they would work together to kill them.

As a result, Yan Gu was intercepted by Thirteen Lang before he could reach the place where the spirit rune was issued, and it was impossible to even tell if this person was what Yan Qingqing was referring to.

The reason is very simple, he is a spiritual cultivator, and he is so embarrassed that he can't say anything, and his cultivation is only in the Dan period.

Yan Gu didn't know that Yan Qingqing was dead, and took it for granted that he was fighting his opponent from a distance, and this spiritual cultivator might be the other party's helper, or he could be an ordinary monk who was lost and lost.

Anyway, if he's a spiritual and gets in his way, then he's damned. What was particularly annoying was that Yan Gu discovered that this spiritual cultivator was actually using a sword......

A sword of pretty good quality!

Adding up the several, Yan Gu really couldn't find a reason for him to live, hearing the high-spirited shout, Yan Gu couldn't help but smile on his face, and said like a tea tasting.

"Find your own death. ”

After saying that, the swallow bone came out with a sword.

Yan Gu saw that the other party was unwilling to talk more, and he didn't want to talk to the other party more, so he planned to kill him with a sword.

He didn't even bother to cast the demon spirit demon general, and he didn't want to waste too much time here, he just wanted to slash him with a sword.

The flying sword breaks through the air and comes out of an extremely thin line, like a painter holding a gray pen and scribbling on the colorless back.

The sword of the swallowtail clan is slender and narrow, and it takes a smart route, but the swallow bone is a rare outlier, although the sword body is narrow but very thick, the blade is extremely thin and sharp, and can be used for chopping.

The line that the flying sword walked out of was not a straight line, but meandered forward like a swimming fish, and even repeated detours, until it was only more than ten zhang away from Shisanlang, and the flying sword suddenly stood up like a javelin, fiercely all.

At this time, looking at the place where the flying sword passed in the air, the gray streaks had not yet dissipated, and the shape of a word was faintly out.

Disorderly!

As the blade slashed, the gray fan unfolded, and the screaming sound in the air suddenly ended, replaced by the fierce and fierce axe swinging at the stake.

The gray fan surface was like a mark left by a pillar of heaven toppling and cutting through the space, and Yan Gu's eyes looked at his sword, and his eyes showed a look of satisfaction.

After ten days of suffering, although his spirit was tired, the anxiety and killing intent accumulated in his chest had also reached the extreme, and this sword vented at least half of his anxiety, which was not only far more powerful than usual, but also relieved his mind. The eyebrows are slightly soothed.

"After today, the old man should meditate and comprehend the sword intent, and he will definitely be able to gain something. ”

In thought, Yan Gu quietly looked at his sword, waiting for the other party to die.

In his thoughts, he saw Thirteen Lang raise his hand. Swinging his sword, he met his sword without any fancy and spit out a word from his mouth at the same time.

"Kill!"

......

......

Thirteen Lang, who is only thirty years old, is not even a fraction of the other party's cultivation time;

The thirteen Lang in the battle like to use tricks. Tricks, but this time, he didn't.

He is very good at finding the enemy's weak points, and he can create weaknesses without weaknesses, and he is even better at attacking the enemy's weaknesses with his own strength, and he can always succeed. But this time, he didn't.

He had many means to deal with this sword, and even many means to kill the swallow bone that had rushed forward. But this time, he didn't do that.

The Thirteen Langs of the past. He always distributes his strength well, and often wins at the lowest cost, but this time, he didn't do that.

He still had a strong enemy to face, and the three people in front of him were just the beginning, not even the beginning, and he shouldn't take any chances. Instead, you should conserve your strength, physical strength, mana, and energy to face the more vicious journey ahead.

The Demon Hunting Forest is vast and boundless, and if Thirteen Lang wants to find someone among them, he needs to face everyone, everyone he meets. People here. Except for the demon cultivator, who is a demon hunter, everyone he encounters may be a battle.

Fight until you find the person he is looking for, and the time may be ...... A whole decade!

......

Ever since he got the news of Ding Dong and Leng Yu, Thirteen Lang has been holding back a fire in his heart, a fire that cannot be vented.

To be precise, this flame has been held back for a full decade, if not longer.

He doesn't like to let his worries interfere with his actions and judgments, and he knows better that the so-called deepness, sadness, vicissitudes, and anger are just the most useless and cheap emotions, which will only bring bad results.

No matter what happens, no matter what things he faces, Shisanro always looks like a well-known Lotte calm and indifferent, as if he has no heart and lungs, and even a little indifferent.

This mentality is very sensible and correct, but it is very tiring.

Tiredness that only he himself knows.

Since he was six years old, and even long before he was born, Jusan Lang has thoroughly understood a truth, no matter what kind of emotion, no matter how strong that emotion is, it is enough to stay in his heart.

The ultimate in everything is calm, no matter how much complaining is better than smiling, the road is under your feet, your life is in your hands, why do you need the sympathy of others.

Or you can change your speech, your heart looks at your eyes and your heart, why should you sympathize with yourself.

......

......

However, he is a normal person after all, and his emotions are no less than others, or even more intense.

After holding it for a long time, enduring it, being tired, running tired, he needs a catharsis.

A thorough catharsis! A catharsis that shakes up the spirit, boosts morale, saves confidence, and proves pride!

Catharsis comes from the sword in the hand, from the sword that is swung!

Spiritual light poured into the sword body from the body, forcing the sword rays out from the sword body, and the sword rays spread into the surrounding air, scattering the boundless demonic qi.

The meridian sword emitted the strongest hiss since its birth, and the sword light reached more than ten zhang, like the brilliant and dazzling torch lit in the night sky, as if it illuminated the entire sky.

The sound of the whistle is clear and high-spirited, and the unyielding is unyielding in the rebelliousness, as if hundreds of millions of living beings are shouting.

This sword is powerless and invisible, not like a sword, but more like a knife that breaks through the air.

But it cleaved out the anger of the thirteen langs, his spirit, qi, and spirit, and also his fighting spirit, his soul, and pride.

The brilliant brilliance and the gray demonic aura collided with each other, reflecting a sluggish and panicked face.

As if cutting through a gray cloth, or as if cutting through a gray wall, the great sword full of agility was wrapped in angry silver flames, all the way to the face of the swallow bone.

At this time, a tearing roar sounded in the air, but it couldn't hide the clear drink...... The last note.

"Kill...... It's over!"

......

...... (To be continued.) )