"You ......" was so painful that the hidden hatred day couldn't even say a complete sentence, and couldn't even stand firmly. Flash Dance

His legs were slightly bent, and he covered his lower body with his hands.

A pair of eyes couldn't be wide, full of anger.

The ink knife can make a counterattack, which is somewhat beyond his expectations, but what he didn't expect was that the ink knife was so despicable, regardless of his face, using such an obscene move.

But he didn't know that this was the ink knife, and he could do anything to live in order to live.

Inkknife eventually fought back, and although he still put his life first, this time Inkknife gave up on escaping.

It was also at that moment that his killing realm was no longer suppressed.

Turning over and getting up, he rushed out of the dirt, bringing up a cloud of dust, which was deliberately done by the ink knife.

didn't give the slightest chance to the Hidden Hate Heaven, and suddenly shot when the Hidden Hate Heaven was still in pain.

Taking advantage of the momentum of the dust, the hand interrupted the swing of the knife, and drove it with the blade, hitting the dust towards the hidden hatred sky.

The hidden hatred only felt a flower in front of him, and his eyes were blinded by the dust.

He didn't wipe it with his hands, let alone panic, although he was rough, but his mind was quite delicate, and he saw the despicability of the ink knife, how could he not be wary in his heart.

For a moment when his eyes were confused, he quickly pulled back, and the long knife in his hand flew up and down, trying to use this method to prevent the ink knife from getting close, in order to buy a moment.

But where will the ink knife give him a chance. 35xs

When it landed, the ink knife stabbed the broken knife into the ground, and the legs were separated back and forth, just like the posture of Na Li Ziya.

The ink knife wants to use this posture to maximize his speed.

Qianwen could chase after him at any time, but the person he was waiting for was not seen for a long time.

The ink knife must be a quick one.

With the strength of his feet, at the moment when the figure rushed out, he swung the knife backwards violently, and the body of the ink knife drew a black shadow like a meteor.

This is not the first time that the ink knife has used the method of borrowing force to accelerate, but this time it is different from the previous one.

In the past, because of the power of the knife, the ink knife could almost perfectly control itself, whether it was the force, the angle, or even the timing could be perfectly matched.

But now it's different, the ink knife has no power of the knife, and everything can only rely on himself.

So for the ink knife, this stabbing acceleration is actually an adventure.

But for some reason, this time, the ink knife was not as cautious as before, and he never shot without being fully sure, and at this moment he had only one thought in his heart, to kill the person in front of him.

"Kill!" the ink knife roared, and suddenly swung the knife when the speed reached a critical point, and the perfect time to seize the force.

I didn't see anything, not even the broken knife in the ink knife's hand.

Hidden hatred is still wielding a knife, still trying to resist the sneak attack of the ink knife.

But he suddenly felt that something seemed to be missing from his shoulder, and he froze in place for a moment, looking at his shoulder in some confusion.

The arm is gone, only blood, and the blood is flowing.

He couldn't figure out why the ink knife that had been suppressed by him was suddenly so strong.

Hidden Hate Heaven wanted to know the reason, but his confused eyes could only catch the afterimage behind the ink knife.

After a knife, the ink knife turned over and landed behind the hidden hatred sky, and the toes touched the ground, and the extreme speed brought huge inertia, but the toes of the ink knife did not even bring up the slightest dust.

Like a dragonfly touching water, lightly.

At this moment, the ink knife has used its strength to the extreme, turning over violently when the toes touch the ground, interrupting the knife with his hand, and using the forward inertia to instantly double his speed.

Then he swung his knife again and rushed towards the Hidden Hatred Heaven.

I saw the figure of the ink knife, like a pitch-black pen and ink, surrounding and hating the sky, only the ink tail was seen, but the blade was not seen. Writing a chilling text.

The word, however, is red.

The knife stops, and the body stops. The tremendous inertia caused the ink knife to cut two deep marks in the ground with both feet.

Kneeling on one knee, the broken knife supporting the figure, the ink knife gasping for breath. This speed beyond the limit had exhausted him.

Originally, after the first knife, the ink knife wanted to stop, and his body at the moment was not enough to withstand such a terrifying acceleration.

But the ink knife did not stop, at that time, the ink knife suddenly had a feeling, a feeling of selflessness, the body seemed to be uncontrollable, desperately using inertia to accelerate.

At that time, there was only one word in his head, kill!

And the ink knife saw the quagmire again, the quagmire of blood, and the quagmire almost swallowed him up again.

Fortunately, at the last moment, the ink knife was finally exhausted, and finally it was impossible to swing the knife again.

At this moment, the hidden hatred sky could no longer see the human form, and he lay on the ground with his limbs broken, and the blood almost drowned him.

There is no longer the insolence in his eyes, only a gray is left, although he is still alive, he is no different from a dead person.

"What did he just do?" Not far away, Yin Ling'er, who had been hiding in the corner, looked at the ink knife solemnly.

She knows that she knows the madness of the hidden hatred sky, and once she falls into it, she can't fight back at all, so she can only be forced to take action.

The first counterattack of the ink knife had already surprised her, but when she saw the strange power posture and inhuman speed of the ink knife, the surprise was not enough to describe her mood at the moment.

At that moment, a trace of fear suddenly rose in Yin Ling'er's heart.

She was hesitating, hesitating to strike now.

Although she saw the ink knife coming out of her mouth, she looked exhausted.

But after all, this is not the first time she has dealt with the ink knife, and she knows the insidious nature of the ink knife.

Yin Ling'er even felt that the ink knife was deliberately pretending to be so exhausted, but in fact, he had already discovered her and led her over.

After hesitating again and again, Yin Ling'er finally decided not to make a move.

But she didn't give up chasing the ink knife, just watched quietly from the sidelines, waiting for the opportunity, once she was sure that the ink knife was really exhausted, she would attack with lightning speed.

Mo Dao didn't know that at this moment, there was a person who was by no means weaker than Hidden Hate Heaven or even much stronger than Hidden Hate Heaven was peeping in the dark.

There was no rush to escape, Modao came to a corner and bent down to sit down, at this moment he needed nothing more than rest.

The crowd was chaotic, and although the ink knife left many traces along the way, there were still many people within the Thousand Divisions who did not know what was going on, only that it seemed that someone had infiltrated the Thousand Divisions, so they were all looking for it like headless flies.

"What are these people looking for?" said the man in a corner. Despite the repeated warnings of the Thousand Questions, there were still many people who infiltrated the Thousand Divisions, and this man was one of them.

One of his long red hair, as if he wanted to drip blood, with a terrifying light in his eyes, was about thirty years old at most, and a pitch-black long stick on his back, and if you looked closely, there was a trace of blood on the long stick.

"You ask me, who do I ask. Beside him, another man chuckled, sneaking into the Thousand Divisions of Death, but he always had a playful smile on his face, as if he was not afraid at all.

Green-haired, light-faced, up and down in his twenties, playing with a half-arm-long scimitar in his hand.

(End of chapter)