Just when the tip of the sword was about to pierce his eyes, the middle-aged scribe didn't have time to think, so he directly covered the feather fan in his hand on his face, and narrowly blocked the sword, and the price paid for this was that the extremely cherished feather fan in his hand was divided into two halves by the raging sword qi, and only one fan handle was left in his hand.

But this is a sword that Xu Baichuan has been accumulating for a long time, how could it be stopped so easily?

So soon another sword light was born.

On the face of the middle-aged scribe, although this time the middle-aged scribe made preparations and arranged a talisman spell on his own good cultivation, but under this sword, the talisman spell only lasted for a moment before it shattered, and the remaining sword qi left a lot of vertical and horizontal wounds on his face.

Not long ago, he was a scholar, but now he is like a beggar who is bullied by others.

Maybe the beggars are better than him.

The middle-aged scribe who was very miserable by the sword qi had an ugly expression, and there were painful flashes on his face one after another, he wanted to use his breath to expel the sword qi, but in the end, he was desperate to find that the breath he had cultivated for decades was helpless against the sword qi, the sword qi seemed to have taken root, no matter how the wind and rain hit, he would not move at all, if he swarmed and won by quantity, he would be suppressed, which made it difficult for him to accept.

Sword cultivation, is it really that difficult?

Xu Baichuan looked at the middle-aged scribe who had withdrawn a distance again and was already very close to the town gate, and did not rush out of the sword, but took out a lot of rune paper from the splendid bag, and with a slight lift, the rune paper turned into golden light, enveloping a place.

It happened to be the distance between him and the middle-aged scribe.

He's determined to kill people, so he can't let people run away, right?

It doesn't make sense.

However, judging from the current situation, even if he doesn't use rune paper, the middle-aged scribe may not be able to leave.

The sword qi enters the body, no matter how high his realm is, as long as the sword qi exists in the body, he will always be subject to some checks and balances, not to mention that he has broken a left arm now, even if he has twelve percent of his strength, now there are only seventy percent left.

I'm afraid that if a monk from the same realm comes at random, he will be able to hang and beat him.

Not to mention Xu Baichuan, who is in full swing.

The middle-aged scribe looked at the golden light that enveloped him, and then thought of Xu Baichuan's such a strong murderous edge, he suddenly remembered something he heard not long ago, saying that there was a sword cultivator named Xu Baichuan under the Great Zhou Dynasty, it is said that he is still the first person in today's young sword cultivation, not only with strong killing power, but also unscrupulous means, whether it is the magic weapon of the three sects or the rune paper, it is used in a good way, compared with the rest of the sword cultivation with only one sword, it seems a little different, so it is also extremely easy to identify.

If this is Xu Baichuan's words, then everything makes sense, no wonder there is such a strong killing power.

I'm afraid that there is only a genius like the Holy Son of the Three Sects who can be compared to him, right?

I don't know what will happen to my Confucian son?

For some reason, such an idea suddenly occurred in the mind of the middle-aged scribe.

Soon, he laughed at himself, a little sad.

He was all an outcast who was driven out of the mountain gate, and he was still worried about what he was doing, rather than thinking about what he had or not, it was better to face the sword that was coming next.

It's better to die anyway!

The middle-aged scribe put his hand into his arms, took out an earthen pot-shaped ornament, smiled, took a little blood into his left arm, which was still dripping blood, and put it in, chanted words in his mouth, and then threw the earthen pot on the ground.

The earthen pot split apart with a crisp sound.

Then, a strange black mist suddenly poured out of the shattered earthen jar, hovered in the air for a moment, and soon found its target, pouring directly into the mouth and nose of the middle-aged scribe.

The next moment.

Originally, there were still some middle-aged scribes who merged with the black mist, and their bodies shrank suddenly, like a dried corpse, exuding a strange aura all over their bodies, and there were bursts of discomfort just by looking at them.

The townspeople, who had been watching from behind, felt sick when they saw the middle-aged scribe looking like a dried corpse, and a few of the timid people had even fainted with fright.

They can understand that the relationship is not a fight between martial arts masters, but a fight between immortal figures in the sky.

Soon, the townspeople were scattered.

Only the woman wrapped in the ritual weapon was left, with a blank expression.

Xu Baichuan stretched out his hand and made a move, and the magic weapon that enveloped him suddenly flew back into Xu Baichuan's hand, and before he could take a closer look, he was put into the bag, and at the same time, a paragraph of words came out with this action.

"Go farther and don't come near here. ”

The woman pursed her lips, nodded, and quickly caught up with the crowd and disappeared into the area.

So all that was left here were Xu Baichuan and the middle-aged scribe, as well as a large number of corpses that had died unexpectedly.

The middle-aged scribe who turned into a dried corpse waved his left arm of the regrown mist, his face was excited, and he muttered to himself: "Hey, it is worthy of being refined with thousands of human lives, and the effect is so powerful, the ancients honestly did not deceive me." ”

"Demon Dao, fart Demon Dao, this is the right way, those old things are not necessarily good to me, why should such a good spell be sealed, and say that cultivation is to be expelled from the sect, what a group of fierce old things, read a bullshit book......"

"Hahaha......"

The more he spoke, the more crazy he became, his voice became higher and higher, and after laughing wildly for a while, the middle-aged scribe suddenly turned his head, looked at Xu Baichuan, and exclaimed, "You...... Gotta die !!"

The voice was terrible and harsh.

Xu Baichuan's expression was calm, looking at the middle-aged scribe who had obviously used the magic spell to improve his cultivation, he didn't worry too much, strong is strong, but what can it be counted?

After all, it is only an external force, which can be strong for a while, but it is duckweed in the air, a tree without roots.

In this world, after all, it still depends on one's own cultivation.

When the middle-aged scribe saw that Xu Baichuan didn't reply, he screamed even more, and his crimson eyes stared at him.

"You're scared, you're scared......"

Xu Baichuan didn't speak, just raised his sword.

The body swept forward, and a sword aura rolled, and in this space sealed by golden light, it was soon filled with a faint sharp aura.

I have a sword that can destroy all the evil spirits in the world.

Teach them to be scattered and ashes!

The next moment!

A gust of wind was born in this enclosed space, followed by the young man who was in the shadow of the sword, and roared out together.

The name of the sword is Autumn Wind, and the vision it carries is naturally Autumn Wind.

Therefore, when the sword was handed out, it was like a howling wind, and it quickly struck the middle-aged scribe.

The middle-aged scribe finally stopped laughing wildly, but looked at the sword with a serious face, feeling a slight tingling sensation all over his body, he opened his mouth and spit out, and as soon as it arrived, the black mist spat out of his mouth.

And after spitting out this black mist, his body became more and more dry, almost like a skeleton covered in skin.

How can it be like the people before?

But that's right, cultivating demonic spells and using people as sacrifices has long been not considered human.

Xu Baichuan faced the black fog coming against the current, not afraid at all, and the long sword in his hand was like thunder and lightning, cutting through the black fog directly.

Handed to the middle-aged scribe.

Looking at the sword that was approaching him again, the middle-aged scribe did not feel that death was imminent, but spit out a black mist again.

At the same time, the black mist that had been cut off before gathered together again, and the one that was now spit out formed an angle trend, one after the other, floating towards Xu Baichuan.

Xu Baichuan didn't pay attention to how strange these black fogs were, and there was only one thing on his mind now, which was to kill the middle-aged scribe.

As for the rest, it doesn't matter.

No matter how weird the black fog is, but its most fundamental is a spell, the monks of the three sects may be afraid, but Xu Baichuan may not be afraid.

Because, if you cultivate a sword, you can destroy all kinds of spells.

The sword qi slashed through the black mist again, and the black mist dispersed in all directions, leaving a lot of space.

At this point, the two were only five steps away.

The middle-aged scribe was a little surprised to see that the black mist did not have the expected effect, but he quickly put it away, and instead stretched out his left arm that had been condensed by the black mist before, and without fear, he smashed it against Xu Baichuan's sword with a fierce fist.

He hadn't practiced martial arts, thinking that it was something that inferior people could learn, so his punch didn't have too many bells and whistles, nor did he have the strength to make all kinds of ingenuity, but a very straightforward punch.

Those scattered black mist that was slashed by the sword qi seemed to have found a home, and they poured into this arm one after another.

When this arm approached the autumn wind, it made a sound of gold and iron like an iron tool.

Xu Baichuan's expression was flat, and he didn't care about the loss of this sword, the magic spell should always be a little weird.

It's not unusual to be able to block this sword.

One more sword is it.

A large area of sword qi carried a majestic momentum, like a big river, surging out.

If there is a pit in front, it will be filled, if it is a long causeway, it will be overflowed, and if it is a high mountain, it will be broken at the waist.

Xu Baichuan's longitudinal sword was split, and his long hair, which was simply tied with a wooden hairpin, danced in the wind, setting off like a reincarnated immortal.

This scene is indeed similar, the middle-aged scribe's withered body is like a demon and a demon, Xu Baichuan raises a sword to kill the demon, it is the bridge of the immortals, if someone makes up this story and sings it around, it may be able to be passed on for a long time.

It's just that this is an afterword after all, and it's still inaccurate.

The sword aura around Xu Baichuan's body was overflowing, and the middle-aged scribe was as strong as a madman, and large clouds of black mist emerged around him.

The sword qi and the black mist kept colliding, and the sound of gold and iron kept coming out.

The waves born from the impact were scattered, and there was nowhere to go, so they turned to the golden light shrouded in it, the golden light was just a few pieces of rune paper at will, and the grade was not high, but Xu Baichuan took it from the hands of a few Taoist monks, how could it withstand this constant impact, and soon there were cracks spread on it, and the golden light that was originally quite bright instantly dimmed a lot, as if it was about to crumble soon.

But for some reason, it still held on.

The middle-aged scribe obviously noticed the golden light that was about to shatter, and when he punched, he laughed and said, "I said, if I want to leave, no one can stop me." ”

Xu Baichuan still didn't speak, but took a step forward, and it was this step that made the situation change a lot.

The two are now only two and a half steps apart.

The previous circumference time is almost gone.

After all, the middle-aged scribe was just a scholar, and his punches went straight to the ground, like a ruffian, and he only had to kick down and scratch his ears, if it weren't for the black mist, I am afraid he would have died a long time ago.

And Xu Baichuan is not like him, but he is extremely proficient in swords, whether it is sword qi and sword intent or swordsmanship, he has already stepped on the avenue, so there are many ingenious moves to change, if he is placed in the secular rivers and lakes, he will be the indisputable number one in the world.

And now the situation is like the number one in the world bullying a scholar who doesn't know how to punch and kick and only relies on brute strength.

Naturally, the winning game is in hand.

The autumn wind in his hand was within reach of the middle-aged scribe's neck, and he quickly stabbed into it, and when he came out again, he didn't bring out blood, but a piece of black mist.

It's weird.

The middle-aged scribe did not die, but looked at Xu Baichuan, his expression was much calmer, and suddenly asked, "Do you know how to use spells?"

Xu Baichuan looked at the gap in the middle-aged scribe's throat, sighed slightly, and replied calmly, "No." ”

Just two words, concise and to the point.

He can use magic tools and rune paper, and he can use many external forces of the three sects, but there is only one thing that he has never touched, and that is spells.

Spells require the breath of the three sects to be used, and he has sword qi in his body, which can break through all kinds of spells, how can he be so abandoned?

After hearing the answer, the middle-aged scribe nodded and said with a smile: "I will." ”