The night is so quiet that it seems to be frozen by frost.

The moon hangs in the sky like a hook.

but not as deadly as the scythe.

The giant scythe shrouded in a huge blue light, enveloping the entire white lake in an instant.

Once the blade of the sickle misses, the elbow is folded, and the hook tip of the sickle is swirled even if it pecks at the mouth of the vest, one ring after another, one move after another, like a flying stream, there will be no hesitation and stagnation.

To others, this blue light is surprisingly beautiful, but to him, it is full of ugly dangers.

On the edge of the White Lake, there was a lot of waves at night.

The two chased on the sand bank.

Simon entered in shock, and the sickle was suddenly struck, and the opening in his collar was made from the bottom up.

He couldn't help but retreat, and his hand touched the wooden box that had never left him.

But in the blink of an eye, two more blue lights came down, and he had to stumble left and right, stumbling away on the cold sand.

After seventeen moves, he was already sweating profusely.

It's just that his light skills are never good, he can't jump a few feet, escape the edge of the sickle, and can't grab the gap between pulling out the ghost thorns, although he can still dodge from under the hook with his reaction, but he is already restrained.

Simon was shocked to face the stormy waves of dancing, like a giant bear, and opened his mouth to howl.

The wind howled, and so did the sword.

The giant scythe rolled up the rocks and flew the sand, and finally forced him into a distance from which he could not escape, and tore his body cross-waisted, almost tearing the man into two pieces.

He could only muster up all his strength, and made a leap on the spot, rolling in a circle in the air and a circle in the sand, so as to avoid being cut into two sections.

Simon was shocked and held up, and wanted to get closer, but with two "pops", two pieces of gravel hit the eyebrow bone and wrist.

A few bits of blood also slipped shallowly.

At this moment, he finally stood firm, pulling out enough distance for him to pull out the ghost thorn.

Simon's eyes turned red in shock, like a nightmare, twisted his neck, and grinned.

Charging suddenly, the giant scythe thrust thrust out like a spear and stabbed straight at him.

This trick is simple, although it has the potential to overturn, but there is no subtlety to speak of. The scythe that had just been cut horizontally was a tightly interlocking ring, forcing him to hide, and such a blow was like a gap in the ring.

In the first three or five moves, he had a general idea of the short and long length of the giant sickle, and when he grasped this flaw, he made a mistake with his feet, and he had already given up the scope of the scythe, and the hand on the wooden box behind him seemed to have a move.

If you don't move, it will be like the thunder of the sky, the wild roll of the sea, and the shock of the Quartet.

Suddenly, he didn't move.

The hand was still hidden behind him, quietly stroking the line.

The stars and moon in the sky twinkled dazzlingly, obscure, and his fingers could only feel the handwriting on the wooden box, "The water pavilion is mistaken by spring", and he no longer knows whether he has the fate to delay the spring rain next year.

He glanced at Simon with difficulty, and his smile was hideous.

Then the scythe gently pulled out his body, blood dripping like a bright crystal.

He took four or five steps backwards, and his muscular body twisted and slumped to the ground.

If it weren't for his own eyes, he couldn't believe that the cold murder weapon could skyrocket a few inches in an instant, straight to the bottom of his heart.

If it weren't for the fact that between life and death, he had moved a few points, and now it was not the chest that was stabbed, but the heart.

He didn't expect that the scythe to be the same as his own ghost thorn, especially mysterious.

The battle of masters is about ideas, whether you think too much, think less, or think wrong, it is defeat and death.

Simon's scythe had already hooked his neck.

Simon smiled in surprise.

"Are you ready to die?"

He was powerless to answer.

But someone answered for him.

"Can't die. ”