Late at night, torrential rain.

The rainstorm is heavy, dangerous, and it can hide all the dirty or terrible unknowns behind the curtain of rain.

The guards at the gate of the North Palace's waist stood straight, the spear in the palm of his right hand was clutched, and his sharp eyes kept cutting through the rain curtain. There are many enemies of the prince, and there are often small offenses, but there will always be masters, and in this kind of rainy time, it is the most dangerous.

Even though the other guard was on his right, he didn't have the energy to say a word or look at him.

You may lose your life.

The guard's throat burned like fire, and even if he reached out to see the rain curtain, even if the wind blew on his face, it still couldn't calm the oppressive atmosphere a little.

A light flickered in the rain.

The guard's heart tightened suddenly, and the spear in his hand slashed out like lightning.

"Who!" the guard roared, a drop of sweat dripping from the golden helmet.

No one answered him.

As if he had recovered the spear for the rest of his life, he felt that the place where his right hand was clenching the barrel was very slippery, and it should have flowed into the rain.

Raising his left hand to wipe the rain from his face, his body relaxed a little, but the spear quietly squeezed tighter.

There is no danger occurring.

The guard let out a long breath, was he too cautious, but he always felt that something was wrong.

Wait a minute...... Why didn't his companion move in the slightest......

"Lao Yu, Lao Yu?"

The guard's eyes didn't dare to move, but there was not the slightest movement on his right.

"Lao Yu, speak quickly, don't scare me......"

The guard turned his head tremblingly, and Lao Yu still stood there steadily, clenching his spear and staring at the rain.

The guard's heart fell, and he muttered quietly and turned his head. He didn't see the rain, only a dark shadow.

A hint of the tip of his sword sank into his neck. Without the slightest scream or resistance, the guard's eyes immediately collapsed. The body still stood in front of the door with a gun in his hand, staring at the rain curtain, exactly like the old man, standing in front of the door like a stone lion.

The man who came pulled out the sword, did not return it to the sheath, and gently pushed open the thick door of the red paint of the North Palace's mansion with his left hand. The breath of silence came like rolling dust, and the torrential rain could not dissipate it in the slightest.

In the open space in front of the hall, the rain beat on the bluestone floor tiles, and there was only whipped water and dead rain in the open space.

The man lifted his hat, revealing a pale face.

Straw boots into stagnant water, thin bodies into the night rain.

In an instant, a cold light flew in!

"Ding!" there was a tooth-aching sound of swords clashing.

"Poof!" a sharp weapon slammed into the flesh.

A man in black attacked with a dagger, but fell into the rain in an instant.

Countless men in black are coming.

The sound of the night rain is annoying, and the thin voice is silent.

The man's sword was like the wind, and the silver stars were dotted. Not ruthless but resolute, the unrivaled swordsmanship is wielded like a god.

Such a high-ranking person has only one goal, that is, to take the head of the dog thief of the Northern King.

The men in black all fell, and at this time, four flying knives arrived in the rain.

The man took four throwing knives steadily, allowing the blood to seep out. Looking up to the eaves of the west room, a young man in white holding an umbrella is independent of the eaves.

The young man vaguely saw the man's hat move slightly, and knew that the man had seen him, he trembled, and said with a wry smile: "Brother Mo'er, I'm really sorry." ”

The man withdrew his gaze. One of the twelve families of the righteous path, the Xishu Tang Sect has come, and who else is in the rain curtain in front of them?

The organ gritted his teeth, his right hand danced, and the pale cyan internal force was wrapped around the silk by his hand, and the open space in front of the court was wrapped in silk, like a cocoon chrysalis. The raindrops passed through the green silk and scattered in two.

A row of extinguished paper lanterns in front of the room bloomed like flowers in an instant, and endless silver needles burst out.

A few bluestone floor tiles exploded in vain, and sharp flying locusts were thrown out in a sleek rain.

Silver needles and flying stones cracked several rain-filled clay jars, and green water flowed out, swallowing up the stagnant water on the ground with a rotten and rancid smell.

Countless whitewashed wall tiles flew out, followed by a devastating rain of arrows.

The man put the sword across his chest, the violent internal force surging from his body in all directions, the stagnant water under his feet was squeezed by the wind and pressed around, the man was like a ripple heart at this time, countless waves of air surged, and the paper umbrella of the machine almost fell off.

"Ten thousand plums do not fall!"

When it was too late, the man's body flickered, and countless hidden weapons and rain seemed to be stagnant in the air, and he was the only one who could dance the sword.

In the snap of a finger, the green filament was broken, and the hidden weapon entered the water. The mechanism falls from the eaves.

As soon as the man was established, the door of the atrium suddenly opened, and an old man in a robe with a white beard stabbed straight at him with a sword.

Decisive and ruthless, straight to the throat.

The handover of short soldiers, the old man's sword is broken.

The man took a step back, set up his sword, and looked at the old man in front of him who was holding a broken sword and drenched in torrential rain but still had a fairy wind and bones, and smiled disdainfully.

The old man didn't say a word about the man's faux pas, and the broken sword in his hand burst out with a white light, and then returned to its original state. Idly shook his sword, but stabbed again.

At this time, the old man's sword became abnormally hard, almost comparable to his Hanzi Mei. After nearly a hundred rounds of fighting, the man frowned, shook a false move, and took a step back.

"The masters of Kunlun are also going to protect the dog thief of the Northern King. The man finally spoke, his voice hoarse, but no one could hear the anger. There is no doubt about the tone, it is already true.

"You little guy, why don't you ask the old man why?" the old man laughed, "If you don't ask, then I won't say it......"

The man didn't talk nonsense with him, and the blue internal force was attached to the sword, and the breath was released.

Just as the man was about to make a move, the old man moved first.

"Ten thousand plums do not fall!"

This old man actually used his moves! Kunlun's internal skills were so clever.

His pupils dilated, and a sharp sword was about to pierce him.

The blue light of Hanzimei in her hand was finally covered.

"Ten thousand plums do not fall!"

The rain curtain does not fall, and the two swords are staggered.

The robe is forward, and the robe enters the water.

"Ahem......" The man suddenly bent down, covered his chest with his left hand, and coughed up a mouthful of blood.

Bloody straw boots trampled on the palatial court, staining the precious mink that lay on the ground.

There was a green-shirted Confucian student sitting on a chair with Erlang's legs crossed, looked at the person who was embarrassed and should not have appeared in this elegant place, shook his head, and said, "Old Mo, why are you so troubled." He took a sip of his glass and said, "Good wine!"

Confucius didn't seem to pay attention to the man at all, tilted his head to avoid the man's body and looked out into the rain curtain, and smiled lightly. "Old man Zhang is really useless, this can't be solved. By the way, let's put water on you. ”

"The four throwing knives are not lethal, and the top ten are useless. Tsk, I have to talk about him at the king of the north. ”

The sword in the man's hand was clenched tighter and tighter, and the blue light filled the entire sword.

"Wanmei ......"

"Stop!"

The secret art of the hall of rites, a word of mantra.

The majestic golden internal force bloomed from the mouth of the Confucian like ripples, like a bell. The ceramics in the room were all cracked, the cloth was scattered, and the tables and chairs flew upside down!

"Town!"

Ceramic shards, seat stumps, like moths, spread wildly.

The man's eyes suddenly turned blue, and his internal strength was like a winter wind, and Han Zimei came out of his hand.

"It's snowing and it's sunny!"

The cold wind that sealed everything flashed through the sky with the long sword, and an ice blood flower bloomed on Confucius's chest. Confucius stared at his eyes and spat out a large mouthful of blood, and muttered reluctantly: "You are obviously a disciple of the Sword Sect of Sword Valley, how can you still have Qi Sect stunts...... No, I'm not willing to ......" Before the words were finished, the chair was silent.

Han Zimei returned to the sheath in an instant, and the man didn't look at the white-clothed Confucian who fell to the ground, and raised his steps lightly.

Applause rang out. The old man in a brocade dress walked out of the screen slowly, clapping as if no one was around, with an approving smile on his face. Behind him was a teenager, his head bowed.

"Not bad. Not bad. ”

That man had a lot to say to the king of the north, but not now. Wait until he cuts off the head of the king of the north and takes it to the tomb of his relatives, and then talks slowly.

The body is like a sword.

The cold is overflowing.

"Ten thousand plums do not fall!"

The sword flew fast.

He has nothing to say about the living North King, but he can let Han Zimei and the North King in his hands bother him.

The young man with a very humble posture behind the North King raised his right hand gracefully. A light that seemed to be a non-Central Plains emanated from his right hand.

"Blessed by the Light!"

The pale yellow internal force shrouded the Northern King like a warm sun, and the thin air shell was as hard as a hundred refined cold iron. In an instant, even though the man swung hundreds of swords, it was to no avail. The man was forced to retreat to the entrance of the temple, and behind him was a rainy night.

"Mo Yunye. The North King spoke, still with that faint smile on his face, "Lone admires you very much." The cultivation of the half-step grandmaster, the careful thinking, and the soaring righteousness that Gu admires the most. Why, do you want to come to the lonely command? I can write off all the blood accounts you did to the lonely subordinates. Come to my side, let us lead the world and build a great harmony. ”

In Mo Yunye's ears, the words of Zhang Juding, the king of the north, were particularly ironic.

Mo Yunye took off his hat and threw it on the ground, revealing a pale and bloodless crazy face, "Dog thief! You still have the face to tell me this, 50,000 lives in Jingxi Town at the foot of Sword Valley can be written off with one stroke? You tell me Datong? You forced the people of Zezhou to work for 25 years, whether they live or die, it is your Datong? Don't talk nonsense, look at the sword!"

"Holy light!" The young man who did not look like the East held a bead of light in his left hand, emitting countless lights that seemed to be muttering holy sounds.

Suddenly, the young man seemed to have become extremely tall in Mo Yunye's field of vision, unable to be violated, untouchable, and able to break through the dusty ceiling above his head. He is like a thousand feet, full of divine light.

And the broad and broad and extremely guiding voice of Zhang Juding, the king of the north, kept coming from the huge light wheel behind the young man's head: "As long as you are with me, you can benefit the common people in the world, you can fight the end of the world, and you can ......."

"Brother!"

Even though there was a lot of light in front of him, Mo Yunye's eyes were full of darkness, he couldn't see people, he couldn't see light, he couldn't see anything. But he could still listen. "Little Sister ......"

"Woo ......"

There is a glimmer of light in front of me, it is a memory. His little sister Mo Yunzi cried and shouted, and was dragged away by officers and soldiers.

"No!" Mo Yunye drew his sword like a madman.

Something was broken.

Mo Yunye spat out a mouthful of blood.

"Dog thief...... You can't die well, you can't die well!"

The waves of internal strength and qi spread out from Mo Yunye's heart like a ring, and the monstrous power exploded from the sword in his hand, shattering the floor, cracking the screen, cracking the dust, and shattering the young man's Great Divine Light Wheel!

Mo Yunye spit out a mouthful of blood again, and desperately used his life's internal force, which was like the sea, like the tide, like the mountain, like the sky!

The North King frowned, grabbed the young man's back collar, and blocked him in front of him.

Han Zimei swept.

"Tianshui room!"

Huang Ting collapsed. The altar is shattered.

Han Zimei streaked ahead, the rain curtain, the sky.

The North Palace's Mansion is disconnected.

The rain didn't stop, and everything was silent.