"A broken sword is eight or nine points of faith", the middle-aged man looked at the white-haired young man standing in the sky holding a broken sword, and spit out the evaluation of people from ancient times. The person who gave him the bone sword in the Valley of the Fallen Demons was none other than Futu. I didn't expect it to really survive those desperate years and survive.

"There are a few insects, and there are a few remnants" The middle-aged man looked at the Futu holding the broken sword in front of him, and the ancient demon standing in the sky in blood, and said the second sentence of coming to the Heavenly Desolate Star, which carried reminiscence, hatred, and firm thoughts.

The ancient murderer Futu had a strong jealousy in his eyes, as well as a strong unwillingness. The broken sword in his hand seemed to be contaminated with the chill on Futu's body, contaminated with a little cold, revealing a little white frost.

"Eliminate the grass and eliminate the roots, it is really your style".

The Tao is different, and the two sides who do not conspire with each other will waste time to say more. The middle-aged man pulled the erhu in his hand and continued to murmur something that no one could understand.

"Knock"

A voice from the erhu resounded through the heavens and the earth, and then the sound was overwhelming. However, the hearts of Futu and the Ancient Great Demon were in severe pain with this fleeting "bang", as if their hearts were about to explode and their gods were about to be destroyed.

Fu Tu looked at the middle-aged man who was pulling the erhu in front of him, and knew that he had survived the ancient god war and survived the remnants, but what should have come will come after all, and what should be faced will eventually be faced, even if he has survived the most desperate years, the end of despair is still a deeper abyss. Although I had expected it, when this day came, I still had something reluctant to give up.

Looking at this piece of heaven and earth, the Floating Slaughterer's interrupted sword slowly began to recover, gradually complete, although it was faint and illusory, like a mirror, the line of sight could pass through. But the power exuded by this sword disturbed the heavens and the earth, and a nameless momentum appeared between the heavens and the earth.

"Ahem"

Fu Tu coughed up a mouthful of blood and stained his white clothes red. Futu held the hand of the sword, and swung the sword containing his soul, his blood, and his divine power at the middle-aged man.

At the time of the fatal blow of the Futu, the ancient demon was not left behind, and the blood lake and vines surrounded it, forming a blood-colored ball. The black double horns were dyed blood red, and the horns attacked the middle-aged man like a sword that cut the sky.

The most beautiful thing is the fragrance of that moment, after a blow, the middle-aged man, or the middle-aged man, just stood there quietly, did not take a step back, did not move a step, still pulling the silent erhu, as if telling the wind about this loneliness that no one can understand.

Jian Guo and Futu knelt in the air, their bloody clothes and white hair, and the corners of their mouths were stained with blood.

After the knife, the two horns of the ancient demon were broken, and there was no trace of blood around his body, his face was pale, and the blood seemed to be dry.

The middle-aged man looked at Futu and the Ancient Great Demon, his eyes were just indifferent, revealing cold blood, as if he had experienced too much life and death, and had seen too much sorrow and sorrow, so his heart was cold and indifferent.

"Today, even though I die, the heavens will not overturn, and all living beings will still cross the abyss of despair", the firmness in Futu's eyes did not have the slightest effect on the middle-aged man like firm words, and his expression was still indifferent.

Looking at the ancient demon again, he just stood on the ground, looking at his eyes, without any look, only to find that he had already died.