Outside the sea shrouded in layers of mist, a group of white-clothed monks standing in the sky with flying swords looked at the sea shrouded in thick fog in front of them.

"What the hell is going on in the fog today? For a moment I felt like the sky was falling. ”

One of the monks raised and leaned forward a little, looking out at the hazy view of the sea ahead.

This monk's face was like a crown of jade, sword eyebrows and starry eyes, and his long hair was casually draped.

He carried seven flying swords on his back, one under his feet, and a flying sword hovering around him like a nimble flying fish, touching the monk's white clothes affectionately from time to time.

"Hey, sword rack, don't get too close to those fogs, be careful of getting swept in. Whether it can come out at that time is a matter of two words. ”

Another delicate female sword cultivator saw the monk approaching the mist, and said with some worry.

"The fog of this misty sea even some fishermen nearby dare to enter, what are you afraid of?"

The monk who was called the sword rack turned to the girl and smiled disapprovingly.

"Mingyu, you are just as attentive as the master. There may be great danger in the depths of the Misty Sea, but this is the outer edge of the Misty Sea, how much danger can there be?"

"If it weren't for the master's ban, I would have really wanted to go in and take a walk. ”

The young man with multiple swords licked his lips and looked at the sea in front of him, his eyes full of fanaticism, curiosity and war intent for the unknown.

"Indeed, there are fishermen who go in and come out. But don't forget, there are also great monks who have ascended to the realm and disappeared on the periphery of the misty sea. ”

The delicate female sword cultivator couldn't help but say hurriedly when she saw that he was not persuaded, but instead became more interested in that sea area.

"Even the masters, when they go in, they have to bring the magic weapon connected to the Zhentian Tower in the sect as a guide. It must be dangerous, if you dare to go in without the master's orders, I will ...... I'll ignore you for a hundred years!"

She chopped her foot in a hurry, and stretched out a slender finger to the white-clothed monk with her little face up.

"No, ignore you for ten years!"

But as soon as the words came out, she remembered that the young man in front of her had always been extremely heavy on his promises, and she was a little timid, and the outstretched finger retracted half a bit, and her voice was much quieter all of a sudden.

The young man with the sword slapped the girl's finger away at random, and patted the girl's head again.

"You say I want to go. If only you could not stick to me for a year, but for ten years?

He pouted and rolled his eyes.

The delicate girl who heard this sentence suddenly looked at him with tears in her eyes.

It's really pitiful, I feel sad to see the other senior brothers and brothers on the side, but it's a pity that someone who is watching is really teasing his sword and doesn't raise his eyes at all.

"Senior Brother Jianjiu, don't tease Senior Sister. Usually forget it. Don't make a mistake this time. If you get lost, we may have to be locked up in the Zhentian Tower for 10,000 years. ”

Beside him, a monk with a meticulous bun on his head, an old-looking monk smiled bitterly.

"The strangeness of the Sea of Mist may not be the most dangerous in the world, but the terrifying thing about it is that there is basically no pattern to follow, and monks are fighting for their lives when they enter. ”

"Especially today, there are changes in the depths of the Misty Sea. The phenomenon of mutation has even been sensed in the wilderness, Xitu, and Zhongzhou, which is not trivial. I'm afraid that the horror and weirdness of the sea at this time may be even more strange than in the past, and you can't take risks easily. ”

"Got it. Brother. ”

The monk with nine swords, known as Sword Nine, replied nonchalantly, still teasing the nimble flying sword beside him, but suddenly the flying sword that touched his finger affectionately trembled, slitting his finger, and red blood spilled out at once.

Jian Jiu suddenly looked up at the mist in front of him, only to see a huge figure standing up to the sky and the earth faintly in the mist, stepping on the sea water and rushing towards them quickly.

"What's that?"

Someone next to him saw the figure and exclaimed.

"Not good!"

The next moment, all the monks felt that the white fog that had been quiet in front of them suddenly roared and surged towards them like a huge wave a hundred meters high.

They all retreated wildly with their edgeworth, but they couldn't keep up with the speed at which the fog was expanding, and they were suddenly swept into the mist.

They still moved forward, feeling like they had flown a hundred miles away, and when they looked up, they felt as if they were still in place, not moving at all. Because the surrounding scene has not changed at all, it is still a vast white mist.

"It's still there, coming this way. ”

One of the monks, who looked back, shouted in horror, and found that not only was the fog still there, but the figure he had just seen standing on the ground walking on the sea was still there.

The rumbling footsteps on the surface of the sea were even closer than before.

"Is this the legendary weirdness of the misty sea?"

A monk said in horror.

The aura emanating from that figure was too terrifying, like a black sun, and the demonic aura was as brilliant as the rising sun, and the distant white mist also made them unable to fight against each other.

Jian Jiu's gaze swept over the white mist beside him, and the intuition he had cultivated over the years of breaking many dangerous experiences made him the first to realize the problem. Loud and authentic.

"Don't be in the fog, go down there!"

The other monks also sensed the strangeness of the mist, and lowered their altitude, headed for the sea below, and finally stopped on a floating island.

Just stopped, and when I turned around, I saw that the huge figure in the distance suddenly fell, with a huge rumbling sound.

Everyone subconsciously stopped their pace, and saw that the huge figure was still struggling after falling, but it was never able to get up.

"Don't look at it, take advantage of this time to leave. ”

The old-looking monk was the leader of the team, and when he came to his senses, he shouted loudly to the people around him.

The monks hurriedly hurried out against the sea again.

"Sword Nine. ”

The monk with an old face saw that Jian Jiu was still looking over there and urged.

Jian Jiu hesitated for a moment, then glanced over there, but finally followed everyone forward.

The sound of low thunder swelled in the sky, and the originally calm sea surface of the sea also rose and fell violently, setting off waves that were higher and higher.

"Boom"

A thunderclap exploded in the sky, and a storm descended along with the heavy night, and the entire sea was shrouded in wind and rain, thick fog, and a deep night.

In the drenched night, Ye Mingke, who was drenched, had been standing silently for several hours on the edge of the beach where Dabai had disappeared.

What did it feel like? He clutched his chest.

He didn't quite understand that all this happened too quickly and caught him off guard, and his heart was under the impact of one after another, and he didn't even have time to fully release the emotions of sadness, pain, and fear.

But these emotions did not disappear, but they were all heavily suppressed and accumulated in his heart, making it difficult for him to breathe, so tired that he wanted to collapse and never wake up again.

"Which one is you?"

He closed his eyes and whispered to the sea at night, as if it were the uncle who had asked him this by the fire that year.

It was as if Uncle was still looking at him.

"Survive!"

"Boom" A bolt of lightning pierced the night and the thick fog, illuminating Ye Mingke's gritted teeth and hideous and twisted face.

"Survive. ”

Once again, he said to himself that his life is not only his own, but also carries the weight of hope and life of too many people.

Da Bai, Uncle Wang, plasterer Lao Liu, other familiar people in the town, millions of demon army soldiers, and Uncle Long and Aunt Long, who may have passed away.

No matter how tired and heavy he was, he had to keep walking.

He could only kill that weak self. When he opened his eyes, there was nothing left in his eyes that was left with a feverish desire for life.

He didn't know what path he was going to take, but he couldn't just die, he had to live.

"Ye Mingke, don't die!"

He dragged his legs, which had been numb for a long time, and walked away from the sand that had made him sad and desperate, and walked towards the dense forest of the island behind him.

He did not go deep into the woods, and it was especially dangerous to go deep into a strange jungle at night.

He just built a simple tree shed under a tree not far from the beach to block some of the wind and rain, and then he used the dagger he carried with him to cut out a lot of wooden tubes, and placed them in the rainstorm to collect the fresh water brought by the rainstorm.

After all, he was a child who grew up on an island and understood the value of freshwater on an island.

Although, he lives in an illusory town, an illusory island.

He listened attentively to the somewhat rapid ticking sound of the raindrops falling on the wooden tube, and slowly closed his eyes, and finally relaxed his spirit, which had been tense for many days.

The relaxed spirit floated like a kite with a broken string on the memories of the past, and the scenes of the past town passed by before his eyes.

Are they really fake? Is it just a fantasy, a dream?

"What is real?"

The bonds between people are real.

He remembered the many nights he had listened to Da Bai's storytelling under the big banyan tree, he remembered that he had walked through the tower of Tao Yao's house and looked up and shouted Tao Yao, and he remembered Qiao Qiao who slept beside him by the Qingxi.

He also remembered the first time they drank under the big banyan tree that night, sang their ideals, remembered the beautiful sun rising day by day with the sound of his chopping wood, and remembered the many games of chess played by his aunt under the lamp.

At the very least, the joys and sorrows that have been felt are real.

The simple tree shed a lot of cold rain and hit his already cold and damp clothes.

But the warmth of the past warmed the cold reality, allowing him to curl up and fall asleep gradually.

Mentally exhausted, he didn't see a huge shadow wandering on the beach in the dark waters not far away, and a pair of dark green eyes looked at him faintly......

Not far away, a group of white-clothed monks landed on another island exhausted, they had been flying at full strength for half a day, trying many methods, but they had never been able to get out of this strange sea.

On the rough sea, a simple wooden boat tosses and undulates among the churning waves, like a toy in the hands of giants.

There was a cry on the boat, a group of people in coarse linen clothes cried in horror in the wind and waves, only a middle-aged man with a resolute and tough face, still trying to hold the rudder, standing on the boat, staring at the darkness and waves ahead, his eyes were as fierce as a lone wolf.