Li Wenshuo was also like a wolf, quietly walking in the forest next to the mountain road, the sky was dark, and there was still an hour before dawn.

He's been waking up at this time lately, and he's in good spirits at the moment, but he's not sleepy at all.

The moon finally rose to the deserted sky, a little dark, but for Li Wenshuo, the moonlight was just right.

The two barbarian guards were napping, maybe they really kept watch all night, but at this moment, there was no doubt that they had almost frozen to death in the wind and snow.

Li Wenshuo did not draw his sword at the two poor men, he stepped past them, passed through the dense and simple tents, and just stood on this solid ground, the silence of the camp.

He raised his head suddenly, and there was a black-robed person standing on the stone peak not far from the ground, which was a black fox, and he seemed to have expected that Li Wenshuo would make a move at this time, so he waited here in advance to watch.

Li Wenshuo frowned, he suddenly found that he was careless again, if this black fox could guess his movements, then others could naturally.

The black fox didn't speak, and Li Wenshuo didn't pay attention to him, didn't hide it, and walked straight into a tent.

The inside of the tent was dim, and I couldn't see my fingers, but a knife slashed at me, and the wind of the knife slashed in my face, cutting through the air.

Then Li Wenshuo drew his sword, his sword was fast, far faster than the knife that was cut, and he couldn't see the light in the dark, couldn't hear the sound, and couldn't even feel the murderous aura.

The blade slashed at Li Wenshuo's body, soft and weak, because at this time, the person holding the knife had already been cut through the throat by Li Wenshuo's sword.

Another sword, the tent was cut in two, fell, and in the silence, three figures dragged a five-foot-long stabbing sword and rushed towards Li Wenshuo, wearing sheepskin jackets that almost melted into the snow.

The steps of the three of them were the same, their breathing was also the same, and even the timing, movement, and speed of the stabbing sword were the same.

These three swords can be said to be one sword.

In the face of this sword, he was also amazed, if it was a character in the first realm of Xuantho, standing in that dark tent, facing such a fierce and murderous sword, although he might not die, he would never completely dodge it.

Unless the man is lying on the ground.

Li Wenshuo thought so, so he also swung the sword in his hand, there was no sword light, no precursor, not even the slightest sound, this sword was swung out like this, and it slashed the necks of three people at the same time.

The three of them stared, and they couldn't believe that there would be such a fast swordsmanship in the world.

Li Wenshuo's swordsmanship is naturally very fast, not to mention that it is just three Xianfeng, even three ordinary Xuanche, and they will die with a sword in front of this sword.

This sword is a fast sword that even the master of breaking the army will be amazed.

His sword is a fusion of what he has learned all his life, it is his perception, and the key lies in a fast word, of course, it is not only fast, his actions when he comes out of the sword, the process of the sword, will not make people think that he wants to make a sword.

This sword will be swept back after it is released, and it will never stab the second sword, which is a must-kill swordsmanship, and of course, the sword itself is also extremely fast.

In the past half a month, the sword in his hand has continued to kill, and the injuries on his body have been getting worse, but his swordsmanship has been rising in a straight line.

The swordsmanship of killing is different from the swordsmanship of jousting.

Li Wenshuo's sword had returned to its sheath, and the three of them were still rushing forward, and then fell to the ground, clutching their necks and letting out a dull whimper, their eyes full of horror.

He went into a tent again, and there were seventy or eighty people lying in the tent, curled up and snoring softly on the ground.

Li Wenshuo walked through the tent gently, it was always bad to disturb people's dreams, not to mention that he would not use his sword against these unsuspecting people.

He strolled through half of the camp, and finally met a living man in the camp, who rubbed his sleepy eyes, walked out of the tent, ran to a place where no one was and began to pee, not noticing Li Wenshuo not far from him.

Li Wenshuo stood not far behind him, just stood like that, motionless, and waited until the person finished urinating, his whole body was transparent, and when he turned around, he naturally saw Li Wenshuo.

His pupils shrank, ready to exclaim, but the next moment, ten zhang away, the blade of the sword swept over his neck and then returned to its sheath.

He fell to the ground, splashing a cloud of snow.

Li Wenshuo didn't care, just wandered around the camp casually, like a ghost at night, and like a rootless ghost, killing anyone he encountered, regardless of status and identity.

Because he is here to kill, so it doesn't matter who he kills, that's something the enemy needs to consider, he just needs to kill.

The winter morning was unusually cold, and Li Wenshuo no longer wore a single coat, but a tight-fitting small padded jacket.

He didn't wear a dagmy either, because that would hinder the speed at which he could draw his sword.

Just like the black fox said, he needs to go all out and be careful and vigilant at all times, otherwise even if he doesn't die now, he will definitely die in the future.

He was obviously not the only one awake in the camp, except for those who died under his sword, those who were trembling and hiding behind the tents in fear, and those who were frowning and still hesitating to make a move.

When they hesitated, they were defeated, although in Li Wenshuo's opinion, they were far from reaching the point where they were enough to fight him, but as long as they pulled out their weapons and stood in front of him, then they were his opponents.

The black fox had already sat down at this moment, staring at the sword in Li Wenshuo's hand without blinking, and the iron-blue cold light on his fingers gently brushed the black scabbard on his waist, falling into endless thought.

The cold wind began to howl again.

There was an eager buzz in the camp, and when Li Wenshuo heard it, the feather arrow had actually reached his eyes, and then he swung his sword, and shot down the feather arrow in front of him with a sword, and slashed into the dark night dozens of feet away.

Only a terrible howl could be heard, very painful, but very clear, echoing in the camp.

The next moment, all the silence was gone.

The barracks began to become noisy, and the sound of soldiers waking up and dressing, the sound of knives coming out of their sheaths, and the sound of boiling water all sounded clearly in my ears.

Li Wenshuo raised his head again, at this time the black fox was gone, although as long as he wanted to find him, he could definitely be found.

But he also knew it was time for him to go.

So he turned around and walked in the direction he had come, one step at a time, three feet away, and by the time the barbarians reacted, he was almost out of the camp!

There were three or five people sporadically blocking the front, their black faces were a little red, and their bodies were shivering in the cold wind, but they still carried scimitars, roared, and rushed over.

The sword light flashed, and Li Wenshuo walked over without even pausing his steps.

He is very serious about his sword, whether the opponent is an ordinary shepherd who does not know martial arts, or a Xianfeng master wearing iron armor, in front of his sword, he must be in a different place.

He left the camp lightly, and one person shouted and drew his sword and slashed, and before the knife fell, Li Wenshuo's sword swept past his neck.

The enemy fell, but he stopped.

There were two people guarding the camp, only one of them stood up, such a big movement, the other person was still sleeping with his eyes closed, Li Wenshuo only left time for this poor man who was frozen to death in the snow to take a look, and then continued to move forward.

There was already the sound of horses' hooves behind him, and he was still walking very casually, one step at a time, his figure flashing frequently, even if he was galloping, he couldn't catch up.

When there were no more pursuers behind him, his figure flashed again, and he came to the forest beside the road.

When he returned to last night's camp, Fang Wenlan was already boiling water waiting for him.

Just like in a broken temple, when Li Wenshuo came back, he carried a gray fat rabbit and threw it on the ground casually, and he began to cough.

He didn't cough when he slashed with his sword in the wind and snow, but at this time, as soon as he relaxed a little, the cough began, although it was not as shocking as coughing up blood down the mountain, but it couldn't be stopped.

Fang Wenlan hurriedly ran over and patted him on the back, and said with concern: "Why don't you rest for a few days first, in your state, the barbarians can't kill a few, and you will die first." ”

Although the cough was uncomfortable, it would kill him, Li Wenshuo knew this, but he still nodded, a trace of surprise flashed in the eyes of Fang Wenlan in disbelief, and suddenly exclaimed, and the water had overflowed from the pot.

Li Wenshuo finally stopped coughing, reached out and pulled the broken tooth out of the scabbard, and the shiny sword body flashed with a cold light as clear as water.

Even after killing so many people and cutting so many bones, the broken teeth are still so sharp, and there is not even a trace of blood on the snowy blade.

Li Wenshuo chose to rest and did not continue to shoot, because he felt a trace of uneasiness in his heart.