Inside the house, Xiao Jiuyu frowned, and his sad face looked even more haggard than usual. He stared at the open space in front of him, and his mental power began to fill the car. As he did so, a faint scent of lilacs began to spread through the cabin, adding to the incredible scene.

The arrows shot into the cabin like lightning, but in the face of his venerable power, they froze in mid-air as if they were dead, as if time itself had stopped.

Fourteen arrows hung in the lifeless air, and not a single arrow cut his rustic clothes. One of the static missiles floated less than three inches from Xiao Jiuyu's crumpled forehead. Two more poles stared straight into his eyes, and many more were silently hovering in front of his hands!

The frozen arrows gently slammed into the ground like rain outside. The sound was closer to the sound of tender green leaves falling to the ground by heavy rain. The sharpest tip and the hardest shaft, deprived of the power of the boxwood bow and the tough tendon strings that fired them, completely lost all their lethality, rattling like garbage under Xiao Jiuyu's feet.

However, shouldering the feat of stopping these fourteen wooden thunder arrows, even the noble strength of the veteran Xiao Jiuyu couldn't help but tighten, and several cracks began to appear in the spiritual power of the heaven and earth qi around the carriage.

For a man like Chao Xiaoshu, any flaw in the enemy's defense is an advantage for him. As the arrows flew, he felt as if his heart had been crushed by layers of silk, and now a thread had been loosened. His abdomen and sea of qi seemed to be pierced by ten thousand needles, and he felt a little better now. His steady footsteps came to an abrupt halt. There was a scream, raindrops splashed down from the indigo robes, and Chao Xiaoshu strode past the carriage like a fallen leaf.

The dull driver in the carriage seat muttered to himself in a gruff voice. The horsewhip in his hand, made of something strange and unrecognizable, suddenly snapped. From within his rough coat, a faint, dim yellow glow shone, revealing what had been hidden before—the man was clearly a warrior.

In addition to the ancient and weakened body of such a powerful world stride mind master, there must be a guardian of powerful physical power nearby. Even Ning Que could realize this, so Chao Xiaoshu grabbed it at once.

The whip crackled, and the wind and rain beat against Chao Xiaoshu's indigo robe, which was already soaked and fluttered loudly in the wind. His body turned into a fallen leaf, gently fluttering in the storm. He stretched out the first two fingers of his left hand and stabbed the driver's body in the void like a knife. Suddenly, through the raindrops blown by the strong wind, rows of white lines shot out.

The driver snorted again and swung the whip backwards in the air, smashing it into Chao Xiaoshu's outstretched fingers. The driver was preparing the whip when he rolled over in extreme pain, clutching his stomach.

He stared down and found an ordinary pod, buried deep in his stomach!

Ning Que had been running wildly in the rain, shooting arrows as he walked. He clearly knew that the old man in the carriage and the coachman above it were both cultivators, but this did not slow him down in the slightest. Instead, he rushed to the carriage one step later than Chao Xiaoshu, rolled under the two horses, avoided the burly coachman's gaze, and lowered his arrow and pulled out the carriage.

He crouched under the horse's belly, grasped the hilt of the horse's tail with his right hand, reached behind the horse's tail, and pushed it up from under the seat of the carriage. His monstrous blow cleverly avoided any armor the target might be wearing, piercing deep into his gut!

However, a simple thrust on the stomach is not fatal in itself. Ning Que twisted his wrist indifferently and twisted the pod back and forth, turning the coachman's intestines and organs into a soup-like paste.

The coachman looked at the rolling waves in his stomach, his face losing color with fear and despair. There was a low "ho-ho" sound stuck in his throat, and he felt that this piece of sharp metal, which had been soaked in the icy rain for a while, was suddenly burning hot.

Ning Que was in no mood to admire the terrifying face of his dying opponent. He put his palm on the carriage seat, gracefully somersaulted in the air, crossed the coachman's corpse, and followed Zhao Xiaoshu's figure into the mysterious cabin.

The curtains were lifted desolately; The cold spring rain passed through.

Chao Xiaoshu's face was pale, and his eyes were as bright as the moon. He waved his hand frantically, tapping Xiao Jiuyu's cane.

Xiao Jiuyu's expression changed suddenly, he concentrated all his spiritual power in his body, and was conquered by the desire of this stubborn little thug to kill and extinguish.

Ning Que threw himself between Chao Xiaoshu's knees, and suddenly knelt forward with a low muffled snort, and the sharp tip of the camelina in his hand forcibly pierced Xiao Jiuyu's feet.

Xiao Jiuyu howled like a dying beast. His meditation was interrupted again due to the gunshot pain in his feet, but his ancient hands, like the branches of a dead tree, spread out like fans, ready to smash at the attackers!

The expressionless Chao Xiaoshu slammed into the old man's arms, dissipating all the opponent's concentrated mental power, cutting off his attack, and took out a snow-shining dagger with a backhand flash, stabbing the opponent's neck fiercely!

POW!

A knife.

Two knives.

Three-knife incision.

14 knives.

Chao Xiaoshu knelt in front of Xiao Jiuyu's weak and thin body. His left hand grabbed Xiao Jiuyu's right shoulder, and his right hand tightly hugged his sharp dagger, stabbing it again and again. There was no expression on his face, and blood splattered on his robes, leaving inexplicable red stains.

It wasn't until there was only a thin layer of flesh left on the old man's neck, and even Master Hao couldn't be resurrected, that Chao Xiaoshu stopped the dagger and slowly stood in the narrow cabin.

The carriage in the alley remained motionless, silent in the majestic spring rain. From the initial massacre, to the tragic battle in the Zhao Mansion, or in the hail of this thrilling arrow dagger slashing down a spiritual master in the alley, the fat young man in the other carriage remained motionless, just quietly looking at his outstretched fingers like lotus flowers.

In the world of cultivators, there are several established rules that are considered inviolable. For example, a soul master of a realm can destroy any sword saint or talisman master of the same realm, for example, at the entrance of Beishan Road, Master Lu Qingchen steadily eliminated the disciples of the academy. However, the outcome of the battle tonight turned out unexpectedly.

"Both of them are high-grade martial artists in the Perspective State, but a Great Sword Saint somehow killed a great spirit master. It's all very puzzling, but this Zhao Xiaoshu is really impressive. In the battle of the cultivators, it was he who managed to shed all the spectacular blood.

He may be young, but he is already the sacrificial minister of the prince's palace. He silently admired and envied Cao Xiaoshu's power and vitality in his heart, but his eyes were indifferent. He was reluctant to participate in it at first, but he believed that once he participated, no matter how powerful Zhao Xiaoshu and his unseen companions were, they would all die at his hands.

Because he is... The Chosen One, the invincible King Jinglu.

"Let's go. Let me write the last chapter of this legend of the dark night in Chang'an.

Wang Jinglu said as she gently rubbed her smooth and tender fingers. His words were filled with the firmest confidence, with a hint of excitement. He is always excited before killing a real fighter.

The carriage did not move, and no one answered his orders. Wang Jinglu frowned slightly, leaving a thin, rare wrinkle on her broad forehead. He narrowed his eyes. He felt the fluctuations in the vitality around the car, but he didn't feel anything unusual, and he didn't notice that someone was watching in the alley.

There was a dead silence inside and outside the carriage. Only the gurgling rain stirred the darkness. This young man, who claimed to be an invincible young warrior, was suddenly overwhelmed by a strong sense of approval compared to those below the Chosen Realm, but he felt that there was no reason for this fear. He sat quietly in the carriage and was silent for a long time, listening to the sound of rain outside the carriage. Then he suddenly reached out and opened the heavy curtain in front of the cabin.

Only one hair lifted up in one corner of the curtain, and the corner suddenly slapped open, floating five feet outward, and then falling to the ground.

Wang Jinglu squinted through the rain at the soaked piece of cloth in the distance. With a subtle movement of his right hand, the curtain shook again, and another piece cut neatly into the street, turning the curtain into a wet rag on the street.

There appears to be an invisible blade outside the carriage.

He didn't feel the fluctuations in the psychic power that accompanied the cultivators. Only at the moment when the fabric is cut does the vitality between heaven and earth change in the slightest. If it weren't for one of the best young martial artists in the Tang Empire, even if it was a trace of the vibration of heaven and earth, it would be impossible to detect it.