The saint established a religion, but he refused to put down his posture to preach and teach, and the only female snail who regarded the human race as his own was nowhere to be found.

The human race has been cut off from cultivation all the way, and has to compete with the beasts in the wilderness for the right to survive with the mortal womb of the flesh.

Not only that, but another unexpected threat has emerged, and that is the Ascended Ones from the Nether.

Now the top-level structure of the desolate world has been completed.

Dao Ancestor Hongjun escaped from the world in the True God Temple thirty-three days away, and the five disciples under the seat established the four major sects.

Among them, the three sects established by the three turbidities are called Xuanmen Zhengzong.

As the saying goes: one passes on three friends, and two teaches seven points. The leader of the Xuanmen is a big gas.

As for the Western Church located in Xihe Niuzhou, it is relatively remote, inaccessible, and congenitally insufficient, so it is difficult to develop.

Therefore, there are only two paths in front of the new Ascendants.

Either worship under the teachings of people, pots, seven, and the West, and become disciples of saints and pick up people's teeth and wisdom.

Or find a feng shui treasure land by yourself, and cultivate Xia Ji eight by yourself.

Most of the Ascendants, after figuring out the situation, chose the former.

Among them, the pot sect located in the Yuxu Palace of Kunlun Mountain, due to the convenient geographical location, is the most popular place to take refuge, and all the immortals gather for a while, a prosperous scene.

However, there are also some monks among the ascended who do not want to be restrained by others, and choose to explore the cultivation method on their own.

They are either quite confident in themselves, or they have a misunderstanding of cultivating immortals and martial arts.

I have to say that the road from scratch is extremely difficult.

The Nether Realm is a middle martial arts world, and the cultivation methods passed on are basically not out of the scope of martial arts, even if there are some qi training methods, they are also very shallow.

After all, something that is too advanced is completely useless for the world's lifespan of no more than three hundred years, and there are no conditions for perfect development.

Most of the ascendants of the head iron have been working behind closed doors for one or two hundred years, and they find that there is no inch of progress at all, so they have to obediently give up their original intention and choose a sect to join.

Their little attachment not only did not bring benefits, but they took a slow step, step by step, they were originally senior brothers, became junior brothers, became junior uncles, became junior nephews, and missed a lot of fairy fate in vain.

But there are also a very small number of people who do not have any great ambitions themselves, and after attaining immortality, they have little interest in spiritual practice.

Instead, they want to take the riches of the world.

Of course, there are relatively few such people, after all, they can stand out from the crowd and obtain the qualifications for ascension, and the dragon and phoenix in such people generally do not have such a low style.

But it is not surprising that there are one or two.

The first existential crisis of the Terrans came.

......

After a hundred years of reproduction, the Terran tribe has expanded considerably.

But at this time, the territory of the human race was full of flags, the camp was full of injuries and diseases, and the mourning was all over the wilderness, and it was a bleak scene.

A dignified-looking young man, dressed in the sackcloth of a soldier, had lost the lower half of his body, and fell to the ground like a dead dog.

Looking at his wounds, he was cut off by someone.

With the current craftsmanship of the human race, it is impossible to make such a sharp broadsword.

He spat blood from his mouth, laughed miserably and said to his comrades-in-arms: "Give me a good time!"

The comrade-in-arms closed his eyes, his face was unbearable, and then a big bone stick fell, hitting the young man's heavenly spirit cover.

The young man was smiling, his forehead sunken, revealing a gurgling stream of blood mixed with white brains, and he couldn't see it.

It's just that in the moment before he died, the memories of his past life came flooding back.

In childhood, he followed his mother as a toddler, young people followed his father to learn the art of the king, and middle-aged children were both in Taimin and An.

Until one day, when he sensed the call of heaven, he finally ascended to the immortal realm because of his merits, and the emperor's career as a winner in life changed......

Using his last bit of strength and trying to open his eyes, he glanced at the desolate world that had been dyed blood, and couldn't help but be a little confused: "This ...... Is it a paradise......"

At this point, King Chen's first reincarnation tilted his head and died with a whimper.

......

The death of this ordinary young man did not attract much attention at all, he was just one of the hundreds of fighters who fell.

Not worth mentioning in this terrible battle.

At this time, except for the women and children who had been transferred, the eyes of the young men were fixed on the empty square in front of them.

There are two old men facing each other here.

It is said that it is an old man, but in fact the images of the two sides are completely different.

One side has a childish face, surging blood and blood, and a disgusting thick smell of blood all over his body.

He was holding a large knife with a smile on his face.

This is an evil cultivator who has just ascended for only a few years, known as the Blood Knife Ancestor.

Although his strength was only a few times higher than that of the Great Perfection Realm in the Nether Realm, this Blood Sword Ancestor was not something that the immature Flood Desolation Terran could handle.

Correspondingly, another old man is very different.

His old face was full of wrinkles, and he already looked like he was drooping and old.

The old man asked, leaning on a peachwood cane, in a trembling but unusually firm voice:

"Blood Knife Ancestor, you are a true immortal, immortal, and free between heaven and earth!

But why embarrass our little human race?

You know, my people were created by a female snail saint, and if you act like this, you are not afraid of the wrath of the saints?"

The old man, known as the Blood Knife Ancestor, laughed and said:

"The old immortal thing, you are not wrong when you say that this seat is immortal, but between the world and the world, it is highly regarded, don't say that the saint, even the heavenly immortal seat does not dare to go against each other.

Keer and other people who make mud and mud, dare to call people?

Now the immortals are ignoring, heaven and earth are abandoned, and your female snail Niangniang has not shown up for a long time.

Wouldn't it be better to be a subordinate of this seat, as long as you regularly offer blood food, you can avoid the pain of skin and flesh?"

The old man of the human race is the supreme elder of the human race, and he is the last remaining first human race in the tribe today.

As the first batch of human races made by the female snail saint himself, this old man naturally has some magical powers, but in the face of the Blood Sword Ancestor, he is still not an opponent.

After several battles, the Blood Knife Ancestor slashed his peachwood staff with a single sword, kicking him upside down and flying out.

The people of the human race hurriedly stepped forward to protect them, and cried out sadly: "Old ancestor!"

"Hahaha!"

The cruel voice of the Blood Knife Ancestor echoed through the four fields, and it would be easy to control these human races after killing this old guy who was in the way.

The Terran Ancestor was supported by the descendants and sat on the ground, his cloudy eyes revealing deep despair.

"What if...... The man is still in the tribe...... It's just fine......"

He couldn't help but think of that dusk a hundred years ago, when the tall figure led Ryoma and left the tribe with his unconscious wife on his back, and slowly disappeared into the rainforest.

At that time, Peng Keng was just a teenager.

I can't understand the meaning of the demon girl and the scourge in the mouth of the elders.

He only remembered that the sister with the snake tail was so beautiful even when she was unconscious.

If at that time, everyone hadn't driven him away, maybe the Terrans would be ...... now

Thinking of this, Peng Keng couldn't help but smile.

I'm really whimsical.

Now that he is in his 100s, if that man is still alive, wouldn't he be more than 120 years old?

How could there be such a long-lived person?

Peng Keng shook his head.

Everyone looked at the old ancestor, and they didn't know why he suddenly shook his head with a smile at this time.

But he smiled and smiled, but suddenly froze, staring blankly into the distance, his old eyes full of incredulity.

............

............