Wang Mu shook the horsewhip vigorously, trying to make the carriage run faster: "Miss, have we encountered bandits, what should we do now." ”

The whereabouts of the man in black were no longer hidden, and the sound of horses' hooves was like a reminder charm, closely following Cang Jiuyao's carriage, and from time to time sharp arrows were shot.

Cang Jiuyao's carriage is naturally not as fast as the man in black, and he doesn't know what the identity of the other party is, how many people there are, if it is delayed any longer, the man in black will catch up sooner or later.

Cang Jiuyao's expression was awe-inspiring, and he commanded solemnly: "You drive the car well, and albino covers him." ”

Before the words fell, Cang Jiuyao held a short crossbow and pulled the trigger to "swish" three arrows in a row, and when the man in black behind him waved his sword to resist, a swift figure rushed out of the carriage like lightning.

The man in black was getting closer and closer, and the carriage under Cang Jiuyao's feet borrowed the strength to shoot himself like a sharp sword off the string in front of the man in black.

In the blink of an eye, the full moon scimitar in Cang Jiuyao's hand flashed with cold light, like the death scythe coming, and he only needed to slash with a backhand.

When her feet landed on the horse of the man in black, the head of the man in black on the horse was already like a ball, and the "bones" fell to the ground, and the man in black was trampled under the horse's hooves, and it was difficult to see his true face.

And the body of the man in black is still sitting on the horse, the neck without a head, and the blood is gushing like a spring, which looks extremely terrifying and weird.

It's too late, it's too fast, it's just happening in the blink of an eye.

And when the remaining four black-clothed people reflected, Cang Jiuyao quickly picked up the short crossbow hanging on his waist, and shot down one person on the left side of the horse with a "whoosh".

In the blink of an eye, two companions were lost, and the remaining three men in black were shocked.

Cang Jiuyao never gives the opponent time to reflect, his body is slightly low, he borrows a little strength under his feet, and his light figure is like a jumping cheetah, and when he falls in front of the enemy, all that remains is death.

The blood-stained scimitar plunged straight into the heart, and the sound of the blade breaking through the flesh was terrifying.

With a "bang", the scimitar was pulled out, and the barbed blade enlarged the wound that was originally three fingers wide several times, and the blood mixed with the minced flesh came out with a clatter.

The remaining two men in black were already dumbfounded, one of them turned around and fled, and when the other also wanted to escape, Cang Jiuyao jumped up in the same way.

The black eyes were full of eyes, and the corners of his lips hung with a faint smile like a life-urging charm, and the blood spurted thinly from his hand.

At this point, Cang Jiuyao didn't stop, I saw her quickly jump off the horse, raise the short crossbow on her waist, and pull the trigger with a soft "click".

The man in black who had fled fell from his horse.

The crossbow hit the right shoulder blade of the man in black, and he got up and wanted to run again.

Cang Jiuyao didn't hesitate to shoot another crossbow arrow, this time hitting the right knee of the man in black.

The man in black knew that he could not escape, and fell to the ground.

Cang Jiuyao came close and looked condescendingly at the man in black who looked like he was waiting for death.

"Huh", Cang Jiuyao let out a chuckle.

The man in black opened his eyes suspiciously and looked at the person in front of him, with an unsurprisingly sallow face, but the faint smile on the corner of his lips was as elegant as an orchid.

If he hadn't seen everything with his own eyes, the man in black would even think that Cang Jiuyao was just a scholar who couldn't lift his hand.

But everything was too unexpected.

The half-arm-long scimitar in her hand, the cold blade was still dripping with blood, like a scythe in the hands of the Grim Reaper.