Sometimes swordsmen draw their swords, not to decide life and death, not to express the grievances in their hearts, and there is not so much reason why swords have to be drawn in the sheath. In fact, it is very simple for a swordsman to draw a sword, and he can draw a sword if he wants to.

But if both swordsmen draw their swords, it won't be so simple.

Jian Zongming had drawn his sword three times, so no one wanted him to draw the fourth sword.

And at this moment, Ye Xiaolou had already aimed the three-foot Qingfeng at him.

Will Jian Zongming draw his sword because of this?

The lights on the top of the city gate faintly shone a few figures.

The night was a little hazy, and the speed of these figures descending was so fast that it made people's hearts palpitate, and the sound of breaking the air suddenly fell, and even the lights of the city gate were a little blurred in a trance.

Qi Liangshen, who was dressed in green clothes, squinted his eyes, stepped softly in front of the city gate tower, his hands poked out of the green sleeves, and propped himself up on the stone platform in front of the city gate tower, his face was solemn, and his eyes were fixed on the hand that Jian Zong Mingxu held on the hilt of the sword.

Around him, a thin figure shrouded in black robes carried a pitch-black sword box, his eyes were a little hollow, and the sword box behind him made a hoarse rustling sound.

The movement of the third figure was slightly larger, and the whole figure fell from the dark sky, and the whole person's back was hooked, and he fell on the city gate tower on all fours like a beast, bringing up a burst of smoke and dust, and a pair of bright golden eyes were burning in the dust, looking straight to the city gate not far away.

The three of them were silent and looked at the two white somewhat thrilling figures not far away.

They didn't see the phantom that the Sword Master quickly condensed and quickly disappeared, so they didn't know that the Dugu Sword would not come out of its sheath.

So they only focused on one thing now, whether the Sword Sect would draw their swords.

With Sword Zongming's character, if he drew his sword, he would naturally not care about the life or death of all living beings in Fengting City.

There was a dead silence.

Jian Zongming's face was as plain as usual, and he saw that Ye Xiaolou's three-foot Qingfeng aimed at him was nothing.

He didn't draw his sword.

All three of them finally breathed a sigh of relief.

Jian Zongming smiled at Ye Xiaolou and whispered a few words, and then glanced at the city gate tower lightly.

Just a glance.

The thin figure shrouded in the black robe was terrifying, and the whole person bent down like a frightened bird and wanted to retreat, but then the sword box screamed, and the whole body was uncontrollable, as if it was slapped by a giant hand of nothingness!

"Boom!"

The city gate tower suddenly collapsed, and the black robe was hit by an invisible force, and Pei Mo Nengzhong was slapped to the ground, the ground was smashed into a depression, stones were splashed, and the sword box was smashed, and the black-robed man coughed up a mouthful of blood violently, and then raised his head, his eyes were red and looked at the white-clothed figure like a fairy.

The smile on Sword Sect's face did not decrease, "I heard that there is a mysterious sword crown in the Northern Wei Dynasty. ”

The black-robed man staggered up a little aggrievedly, took out the "Nine Hatreds" sword from the smashed sword box, and couldn't stop screaming and trembling, gritting his teeth and being a little speechless.

Who is he?

Since entering the WTO, it has been speculated by the world to be a personal disciple of Sword Shrine who walked the rivers and lakes in this life. The four major swordsmen known as the sharp edge of the Northern Wei Dynasty were all defeated in his hands without exception, and the Xuanhuang Sword praised him, and no one in Qiliang Jiangnan Province dared to fight with him!

It is rumored on the rivers and lakes that there is an invincible mysterious sword crown, how arrogant and invincible that mysterious sword crown is.

The world still doesn't know the name of Ren Pingsheng, and the rivers and lakes respect him as the mysterious sword crown of the younger generation of the Northern Wei Dynasty, and he is one of the few Northern Wei swordsmen who can compete with the red clothes of the Qi Liang Mu family recently!

But now Ren Pingsheng was actually slapped from the city gate tower to the ground with a palm, and even the sword box was smashed.

Ren Ping's hair was scattered, his eyes were bizarre and angry, as if he was about to swallow the white-clothed sword Zongming in front of him, the nine hatreds in his hand trembled, and he shook for more than ten breaths, but he finally swallowed his anger and did not raise the sword in his hand. In his opinion, the man in white in front of him was simply a madman, he had never dealt with him before, and he had never offended him in the slightest, and he had suffered such a shame in vain!

If he raised his sword at this time, he would obey the madman's wishes.

Anyone can see that Jian Zongming is ready to draw his sword, although he doesn't know why he didn't draw his sword in the end, but Jian Zongming's personality is too obedient and unpredictable, so he wants to change the object of the sheath.

The sword qi in Ren Pingsheng's chest was swollen again and again, and finally fell silent.

Jian Zongming's name is too public, and he can't afford not to back down.

If you don't retreat at this moment, it is three steps of blood splashing, and there is no life or death.

So he could only knock out his teeth and swallow it in his stomach.

Then Sword Sect Ming said indifferently, "Since you don't dare to draw your sword-"

Ren Pingsheng suddenly shouted with grief and indignation, and the whole person was hit again by a huge force, that kind of power was too strong, and Pei Mo could resist it...... Even if he tried his best, he was swept out without holding on to a breath!

The most infuriating thing is that the slapping force didn't even hurt much, just to humiliate himself, and he could only be picked up by that power again!

"Boom!!"

Once again, the gates collapsed, this time even more so than the last.

"Ahhhh

An angry roar came out, and a figure rushed out of it, his black hair was scattered, and the surface of the pitch-black long sword in his hand suddenly ignited, like a thousand feet of fire lit in the dark night!

Ren Pingsheng is really angry, and he no longer thinks about the fate of the sword, in his opinion, if he doesn't come out of the sword at this moment, it is really better to die than to live!

"Ding—"

It was like the sound of Jin Ge resisting the iron blade, and the sword blade that was burning with flames could no longer hand forward a single point.

It was no one else who blocked this sword, but Qi Liang's current number one god general.

Wing Shaoran.

Lu Songqing, who is known as the saint of Qiliang soldiers, once swept the eight great countries of the Spring and Autumn Period, and his siege skills were superb, and his heroes were like fingers, and his martial arts were invincible, which could be called ten thousand enemies on the battlefield. If it weren't for the defeat in the last battle of his life in the hands of Jian Zongming, Lu Songqing would be a lonely man in the true sense.

Lu Sheng, Qi Liang all wore vegetarian clothes, and only one person was allowed by His Majesty to wear black sleeves to fulfill filial piety.

Lu Sheng's only disciple, who regarded it as the same as a parent, was Yi Shaoran, who was holding the sword crown with his five fingers at this moment.

The green shirt glanced at Ren Pingsheng, who was in a state of surprising anger and had not yet calmed down, and said in a cold voice, "Are you sure you want to make a move......?" But there's only one. ”

The red-eyed Ren Pingsheng gasped for breath, but the five fingers of the person in front of him were even more terrifying than Jin Tie, and the Nine Hate Sword was firmly grasped, and he couldn't go any further. Until Yi Shaoran's words were enlightened, it was like cold water waking himself up.

Ren Pingsheng stared at the white figure, gritted his teeth and snorted, even if he was unwilling in every way, he finally slowly withdrew the Nine Hate Sword.

Sword Sect Ming's indifferent eyes no longer looked at the extremely embarrassed Northern Wei Sword Crown, if Yi Shaoran didn't resist that sword, at this moment, this undefeated Sword Crown had already turned into a corpse.

His gaze looked at the third figure of the city gate tower, the Demon Flow Sword Venerable. And the burly figure with bright golden eyes snorted coldly, turned his head in silence and left, and quickly disappeared at the top of the city gate.

Then Jian Zongming's gaze turned leisurely and fell on Yi Shaoran, he felt a familiar aura on that Tsing Yi, just like going south to Qiliang in the first year.

Qi Liang Bingsheng was old, but he didn't let him down. That battle ended in the Wutong in the south of the Yangtze River, and the night was as long as a nightmare. Ultimately...... He still won.

He remembered that sixteen years ago, this green shirt was far from growing to this point.

So Jian Zongming said to Yi Shaoran with praise, "You are very strong. ”

Dressed in a green shirt, he was silent in the wind, nodded slightly, as if acknowledging the personal compliment from the white-clothed immortal Jian Zongming, and responded in a slightly wooden tone, "It's not as good as you." ”

The room was quiet for a second.

And then—

"Aha......" Jian Zongming seemed to have heard some joke, his voice was crazy and piercing, and he laughed like this for a full quarter of an hour before falling silent.

Then he spoke condescendingly.

"Of course you're not as good as me. You can't catch up with me in your life. ”

The reason why Jian Zongming's kendo can be so sharp is because of the unreasonable self-confidence in him, to be precise, a terrifying conceit. Unstoppable in the contempt of the world, laughing madly in silence.

It's not so much that he is a heavenly immortal, but that he is a kendo madman.

Then he looked down contemptuously at the Northern Wei Sword Crown who was leaning on his sword and breathing.

"Remember, you picked up a life today. But from then on, "Jian Zongming walked forward with his hands in his hands, and didn't look at anyone again, "There is a name for the sword crown in the world, but this name has nothing to do with you. ”

If Ren Pingsheng handed over that sword, no matter whether he lived or died, it would be worthy of the word sword crown.

Even though Yi Shaoran stopped him, if he drew his sword and unsheathed it at the beginning, his killing intent had been decided, and he would move forward. No one will stop him.

Just like Ye Xiaolou who drew his sword out of the sheath before.

But he didn't hand it out after all.

The swordsman has no return, no life and no death.

The crown of the sword, the best of the sword.

From this moment on, it has nothing to do with Ren Pingsheng.

Jian Zongming walked through the city gate and stepped into the Wind Court.

The wind blew the long hair on his sideburns, thinking of the smiling face that was cut and difficult to put together, and subconsciously stroked the scabbard of Dugu behind him.

"I remember when you said you were going to be the most powerful sword crown in the world. His eyes were deep and dark, and he slowly stroked the scabbard with one hand, and his voice was soft and gentle, "The name of the sword crown belongs only to you, how can others be worthy." ”

Ye Xiaolou watched silently as Jian Zongming entered the city.

Ren Pingsheng's eyes were scattered, and the nine hatred swords clanged to the ground, and he sat on the ground.

Yi Shaoran was blown up by the wind in a green coat, and his eyes were complicated.

The man in white was truly unparalleled in the world, and there was hardly anyone in the world who could make him draw his sword. Beautiful, but lonely and lonely. It is like a beautiful fireworks blooming in pitch black, far away in the sky, still eye-catching.

Yi Shaoran muttered to himself, "I have a sword, and when the sword in the world is exhausted, it will be the time to get out of the sheath." ”