After seeing that Slo was instantly blasted into powder by ten bewitching purple gold boiled lotus flowers. Gwynaville suddenly felt a chill surging up from her heart, and it instantly spread all over her body, making her deeply understand what it means to be cold all over her body. Although the Lancelot who was resurrected by her is not the real Lancelot, just a death knight who has part of Lancelot's memories, but the strength it has is about thirty percent of that of Lancelot at its peak, and it can be regarded as very strong in today's world with thin aura, but it is still planted on the nine seemingly delicate purple gold lotus flowers.

Gwynaville couldn't help but guess. If the nine bewitching purple gold lotus flowers just now were not for Lancelot, but for her. So what will be the result?

"I'm afraid it won't be better than Lancelot's end."

The result of the conjecture made Gwynaville feel desperate, and she felt that even if she tried her best to mobilize all the magic power in her body, it would be impossible to resist the bombardment of these nine purple gold lotus flowers that could turn into thunder and lightning.

"What kind of magic is this, and it's so terrifying?! I've never heard of it. There is also this thunder magic that can turn into a lotus flower. Also, who is this person? In despair, Gwynaville couldn't help but guess Zhang Wenzhong's origin.

At this time, a piece of "the." The crisp impact sound suddenly sounded. At the beginning of the net, Gwynaville was still surprised by the impact of the impact, but soon she realized that it was actually the sound of her upper and lower teeth fighting.

"I'm actually scared of being like this? It's such a shame, no, it can't be like this, I have to show courage!" Gwyna Weil clenched her teeth tightly to avoid another fight between her teeth, and at the same time she trembled and raised the black sè cross in her right hand, ready to recite a spell and make a final fight with Zhang Wenzhong, even if she couldn't escape her life, it was better to fight with him to break the net.

However, in her mouth, the net just recited the first one. After the note of the incantation, a skin-deep chill appeared on her neck, making her dare not continue to recite the incantation. Looking sideways at the three-foot sword on his neck, Gwynaville, who was covered in cold sweat, could no longer care about any dignity or reputation, and knelt down in front of Zhang Wenzhong, begging: "Don't kill me, please, don't kill me," At the moment when she was really facing the threat of death, she completely figured it out. As long as you don't die, then there is still hope for everything, but if you die, you will never turn over

Finish.

Zhang Wenzhong didn't pay attention to Gwynaville's plea at all, and just asked coldly, "Where is the secret room where the rì cultural relics are stored?" Originally, he spoke English very smoothly, but when he said this, he deliberately made several pronunciation errors.

A strange light flashed in Gwynaville's eyes, as if she had guessed something, and it was fleeting. Although Zhang Wenzhong saw this in his eyes, he didn't say anything, but pretended to have an unaware expression.

After a short hesitation, Gwennaville was bold and said, "I, I don't know that Zhang Wenzhong smiled coldly, and didn't talk nonsense with her, so he directly used the three-foot sword to pull a hole on her neck, and Bobo's blood immediately flowed out of her wounds. She screamed in pain immediately, and said repeatedly: "Don't kill me, please don't kill me." I know, I know where the secret room where the relics are kept. Zhang Wenzhong shouted: "Don't say it quickly!"

"What I said, can you spare me from dying?" Gwynaville raised her head to look at Zhang Wenzhong, her eyes were hazy with tears, and her expression was pitiful and painful. Her expression of flattery. It is enough to make many men disarm and surrender, but unfortunately, what she meets now is a person with strong self-control and extremely high weight loss for women.

Zhang Wenzhong sneered and said: "You are not qualified to negotiate terms with me, if you refuse to say, then I will find one secret room after another, although it will take Zhuo'er time, but he can still find it out, he will wave the three-foot sword in his hand."

"I said, I said that Gwennaville's face was pale, and he didn't dare to slack off, so he hurriedly told Zhang Wenzhong about the secret room where the relics were stored, and I only hoped that this guy would be merciful. After listening to his honest answer, let himself go. However, she was still disappointed in the end, and just after she finished answering, Xiao Zhang Wenzhong waved the three-foot sword in his hand and cut off her head.

Just as Gwynnaville's head hit the ground. A blazing flame burst out of her head and body, instantly burning her to ashes. This kind of flame that burns out from the inside of her body is the true fire of Samadhi! Not to mention whether this woman in a nun's robe is the real Gwynaville, but judging from the spells she uses, she is a necromancer. It's not enough to deal with a necromancer by simply cutting off her head. Only, the immortal magic of Zhan Diao's three true fires can completely wipe her out. “...

When the Samadhi True Fire was about to be extinguished, Zhang Wenzhong took out a talisman from his pocket and threw it at the three True Fires. Most of the spell was burned in an instant, leaving only a few scraps scattered on the ground.

After doing all this, Zhang Wenzhong leaned over and picked up the black sè cross. Gwynaville's body was burned to ashes, but the black sè cross was intact, which shows that this should be a rare treasure.

Stroking this black sè cross and feeling the warm aura released by it, Zhang Wenzhong suddenly realized and said to himself: "It turned out to be Hei Yaoshi jīng." No wonder it can be preserved under the burning of the samadhi fire. Well, this is a rare fairy material, which can be used to refine magic weapons. ”

After putting this fairy material in his pocket. Zhang Wenzhong jumped from the second floor of this exhibition hall.

Sure enough, as Zhang Wenzhong said, just as Gwynaville was killed, three gargoyles and four bronze puppets collapsed, turning into seven piles of stone and copper ruins scattered all over the ground. Su Xiaomei, who was leading them in circles, was tired and panting. But the excitement of the god jīng was obviously stronger than the exhaustion of the body, and when she saw Zhang Wenzhong jumping down, she hurriedly greeted him and asked, "Teacher, what are we going to do now?"

Looking at Su Xiaomei, Zhang Wenzhong nodded. Apparently very satisfied with the performance she had just performed. Hearing her inquiry, he replied with a smile, "What else can I do?" What's the matter, little sister, haven't you been addicted to it?"

Zhang Wenzhong originally asked jokingly. Unexpectedly, Su Xiaomei actually nodded with a smile and replied, "Yes." Teacher, when I was leading them to run just now, combined with my previous theoretical knowledge, I have explored a few practical kite flow skills. Originally, I was going to use them to experience the kite flow skills that I had just discovered, but unfortunately they all turned into slag. ”

saw Su Xiaomei's regretful expression. Zhang Wenzhong knew that what she said was true, and he was not joking.

"Is this a good thing or a bad thing?" Zhang Wenzhong shook his head with a wry smile, and sighed helplessly: "Okay, little sister, you don't think about those who don't have them, it's better to hurry up and get down to business." With that, he turned around and walked towards the secret room where the Chinese cultural relics were stored, and Su Xiaomei stuck out her tongue. Hurriedly followed behind him.

Zhang Wenzhong appeared to be hanging out in the British Museum yesterday. In fact, it was through the wide dissemination of Zhenyuan that he had a clear understanding of the layout in the British Museum, especially several secret rooms containing Chinese cultural relics, which were investigated by him. Now. He led Su Xiaomei and soon arrived at these secret rooms with strict protective measures.

Although these secret rooms all have the most advanced high-tech protection measures in the world, these measures are not a big threat to cultivators like Zhang Wenzhong and Su Xiaomei, and they are not even as big as the threat of Gwynaville, Lancelot, and the gargoyles and bronze puppets just now. Under the influence of Taoism, these high-tech protective measures quickly lost their due effect.

However, after lifting the protective measures of these secret rooms, Zhang Wenzhong did not rush to notify Sun Wei and others to come in to carry Chinese cultural relics, but first took out the Chaos Furnace, changed it back to its original size, and then poured the True Yuan into the Chaos Furnace.

Under the effect of True Yuan, a colorful mist was released from the Chaos Furnace, covering all the Chinese cultural relics in the colorful mist. A quarter of an hour passed. The multicolored mist rolled back into the Chaos Furnace.

"Teacher, what are you doing here? Su Xiaomei, who was confused, asked curiously.

"You'll find out later. Zhang Wenzhong smiled and did not answer the question directly. Then, he took out his mobile phone and notified Sun Wei. Let him bring people in to carry Chinese cultural relics.

More than a dozen large trucks loaded with large sealed boxes drove into the British Museum in a thick fog. At the same time, dozens of them have long been lurking around here. The personnel waiting for the order also entered the British Museum under the cover of a dense burst, and began to carry more than 23,000 pieces of Chinese cultural relics stored in the British Museum into the more than ten large trucks in an unbearable excitement.

At this time, in Westminster Abbey in Westminster Parliament Square on the River Thames in London, the Archbishop of the Anglican Church of Canterpare, who was sleeping soundly, was suddenly woken up by a noise.

"What's the matter?" asked Archbishop Canterpare in a deep voice. "Your Excellency, Someone broke into the British Museum and killed Jīng Ling Gwynaville in the painting." There was panic in the answerer's voice.

The Archbishop of Kanterpare suddenly fell asleep. Shocked shouted: "What?!In the thousand-year-old painting, Jīng Ling actually died?Who did it?!"