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In the middle of winter, frost climbs the mullioned windows.

Some of the people of Shengjing City stood on the eaves, some stood in the streets, and some stood under the overcrowded North City Gate, but no matter men, women, children, old and weak, women and children were all doing the same thing.

It's breathing!

Breathing is the instinct of human beings, and it is the most common thing, but their breathing is too hot, and the Shengjing City under the severe cold also becomes hot.

Raise your head and drive to the north, you can see the clouds rolling at the top of the sky, and naturally you can also see that the big monk in the blood-red robe slapped the old man who is like a god in charge of the sect to the dust!

At this moment, the whole Shengjing City seemed to have life, people took off their cotton jackets, took off the wooden hairpins, and expressed their feelings in the most comfortable way.

Like an ancient beast, Shengjing City opened its bloody mouth and began to roar towards the northern plains, shouting!

The sound shook again, and the entire Shengjing City looked like it had come to life from a distance, and there was nothing else to think about at a glance except for fear.

The elites of the Tang Dynasty on the city wall did not have the slightest insistence on self-sustaining identity.

With Tang Yinlong, the emperor of the Tang Dynasty, his demeanor was close to madness, and the barefoot monk's slap was on the face of the old man in charge, which was refreshing in their hearts.

Zhang Xiaodao felt that this slap was the most hearty sound he had ever heard since he was born, and he was pulling his throat like many people, roaring, roaring!

At this time, the earth shook violently as if it were waves after the old man fell.

A crack began to crack under the dust and smoke after the roar, and an endless abyss came into view, and the endless darkness under the pitch black beneath poured out, and the sky was dark, as if the sun had sucked in it all!

After the barefoot monk slapped it, he did not triumphantly pose on the top of the sky, but coughed violently, although he did not cough up blood. But cough bent his strong waist.

Obviously, this palm is not as casual as people seem, and the barefoot monk must have paid a great price for it.

Menghan Baku, who was tenacious but couldn't even move a finger, lay in the snow, looking at the barefoot monk on the top of the sky, his eyes showed confusion.

His sorrowful feelings made him forget the pain all over his body. He straightened his waist and sat up halfway, the corners of his mouth were full of ice ballast, but he said, "Congratulations!"

The barefoot monk didn't need the enemy's congratulations, and his eyebrows were still almost erect, indicating that the old man who had been in charge of the abyss was not dead.

The three hundred golden iron horsemen set off a snowstorm like a whirlwind, and came to the dark crack in the earth that was invisible. A point of light rises, removing all darkness.

This point of light came to the plain, still pure and crystal clearer than the snow on the ground.

When the halo dispersed, the old man appeared on the plain, he raised his head to look at the barefoot monk at the top of the sky, his face was colorless, but hideous and abnormal.

The cause of the hideous anomaly is simple. His originally childish appearance was already bloodied at this time.

The messy white was curly, and there was a palm print on his left cheek, and the skin was open, and the white bones were already hidden in it, and his appearance naturally looked hideous and ferocious.

The pupil of his left cheek also lacks a lower eyelid, and a bulging eyeball has lost its black eyeball, as if he is blind, but his steps are still steady.

"What do you see?" asked the old man in charge, frail.

The barefoot monk who came to the plain from the top of the sky whispered, "A very boring world. ”

"Then why don't you go?" the old man glared. It seems extremely unwilling.

"It's boring, why are you going?"

"So you retracted half a foot, you wasted God's favor for you!"

The barefoot monk said with great certainty: "There is no god there, only endless emptiness." ”

"You're damned. ”

The barefoot monk nodded very sincerely and said, "I really deserve to die if I killed a lot of people, but I always have to kill you, and I am thinking about whether to die or not." ”

The old man suddenly laughed maniacally, and the pus-and-blood musculoskeletal of his horrible left cheek began to tremble.

After going crazy, he suddenly calmed down and said: "Half-step celestial, but after all, you are not a celestial, you didn't kill me with one palm just now." Now that it's the end of the crossbow, how can you kill me?"

The barefoot monk said, "It's just a matter of hand." ”

"Then come and kill me, kill me, kill me!" The old man in charge of the teaching, who was almost insane, foamed at the mouth, as if he had become a vegetable seller on the street of Shengjing.

"Killing also requires strength, always take a breath first. The barefoot monk looked at the hideous-looking old man and said again: "I have never heard such a cheap request!"

Menghan Baku staggered to his feet not far away, but instead of walking towards the two of them, he looked at the northern wall of Shengjing and muttered, "This city is indeed worthy of your protection." ”

After saying this, the crumbling Menghan Baku sat down, listening to the roar of Shengjing City, and seemed to remember that when the barefoot monk went to the temple thirty years ago, the whole Great Wilderness was shouting for him.

At this time, the battle situation, life and death, no longer matter to Meng Han Baku, he only felt that he had returned to thirty years ago, and Shengjing City was the temple of the Great Wilderness, and he was constantly indulging in memories.

The cold wind howled, blowing his knotted long wind, and Menghan Baku broke free from the memories, and there was no longer any attachment to the world in his heart, and he rose up to the last trace of strength in his whole body, and stood up again.

It wasn't until this moment that he found himself thirty years ago!

It's just that it was particularly difficult for him to stand up, and it was even more faltering to walk.

He walked towards the barefoot monk with difficulty, as if he wanted to touch the corner of the blood-red robe before he died, even if it was just once!

As he faltered, the barefoot monk took a deep breath, and his blood-red robe suddenly rose and rattled in the wind.

In the originally clear sky, a huge dark cloud finally obscured the sun, and the world went gray.

The old man in charge of the sect felt the infinite killing intent that erupted from the body of the barefoot monk, and a blood clot of flesh and blood fell from his left cheek, and his face was frightened, as if he was in a state of escape.

Suddenly, the old man took a step back, which meant that he was leaving, and it also meant that he was one step closer to Shengjing.

But since Sheng Tang dared to arrange the decisive battle, the venue was outside Shengjing City. Naturally, he was not afraid of Menghan Baku and the old man in charge of the sect who would end up playing with a hand of jade and burning stones.

It is impossible for the old man in charge not to understand this, and it is impossible for him to escape from the pursuit of the barefoot monk, so why should he take this step back?

The barefoot monk hesitated at this moment.

This kind of hesitation has never been seen in the thousands of battles he has experienced in his life, large and small.

So he immediately discarded this feeling or premonition that he had always considered the most useless, and stepped out!

Under the north gate of Shengjing, everyone saw the terrifying face of the old man in charge, and a roar erupted from the city wall.

But the old man did not stop teaching until he was only a few hundred zhang away from Shengjing City. He stopped, raising his large, withered hand.

The hand was extremely thin, the slender fingers were covered with bones, without a trace of purity, and the thick black gradient spread.

He raised his hand and grabbed it at his lower abdomen, which turned inky black in the process. The skin was all peeled off, and by the time it reached the lower abdomen, the hand had turned into a black skull.

In the pupils of everyone, the hand pierced through his white and flawless white luxurious robe, and slammed into his lower abdomen, splashing countless transparent blood.

The look of surprise didn't have time to appear on people's cheeks, they only knew that the head of the Light Sect had actually used the Dark Divine Power!

This was not unexpected by Li Zizhi. What is light? Light is pure, it is holy! But who knows that it is light without black against it?

This is also the reason why the barefoot monk and him, and even the few people in the Tang Dynasty are disgusted with the Holy See.

But it didn't matter, Li Zizhi wanted to know more about what he had pulled out.

However, at this time, the barefoot monk had already shown his magical powers, and unlike Menghan Baku during the First World War, the great Shura behind him was no longer a phantom, and tended to be real.

The Great Shura came out. The people in Shengjing City seemed to smell blood.

The barefoot monk was like a Shura possessed, his already burly figure suddenly rose a few points, and the great Shura who stood up to the sky behind him showed an angry face, his eyebrows were erected, and his eyebrows were already similar to Wuhai to the extreme.

When the barefoot monk moved, the heavens and the earth changed color.

Suddenly the coercion weighed down on everyone's heart like a huge rock.

Only in the blink of an eye!

He came behind the old man with his back to him.

Li Zizhi exclaimed: "Retreat." ”

Only then did everyone see that there was blood flowing there. There was iron in the belly pouch that was half exposed, and it had been grasped by the black skeletal hand.

No one knew what it was, but it did seem to pose a threat to the barefoot monks.

At this moment, the demonic old man who had come out of hell turned around, and he poured the remaining vitality into the iron weapon that was as short as a mallet.

A wave that could not be separated by the naked eye came out of the iron weapon and submerged into the body of the barefoot monk.

The barefoot monk didn't think about it. With the supreme power of the Great Shura, he swept past the old man in charge.

A puddle of blood gushed out from the headless corpse of the old man in charge, and without the blessing of supernatural powers, his blood was no longer transparent, but bright red.

The snow was stained with blood, and his limp body, which had lost all consciousness, fell to the ground, and his unconscious body twitched from time to time, completely invading the snow under him into bright red.

In the huge palm of the barefoot monk, he grabbed a head!

The head of the Holy See!

The skull looked like a leather ball in his massive palm, but blood and certain blood vessels and intestines were scattered from the broken neck.

His burly god-like body maintained a posture of rushing forward, his face was still full of hideousness, and the Great Shura behind him was still mighty.

But at this moment, a trace of gray surged up from under the white lotus-like bare feet!