A cold west wind howled.

The gun in his hand was held tighter, and the white finger bones wanted to break through the thin skin and come out to feel the coldness of the ice and snow.

Looking at the indifferent smile, the indescribable disgust in my heart. It's like laughing, it's like ignoring. I wanted to stab the gun in my hand into that smiling face, into that chest. But he couldn't stab it, not because he accepted it.

The incomparably angry heart, the incomparably anxious, and the incomparably lost. The first killer star of the Three Realms who crisscrossed the world couldn't wave the gun in his hand, I don't know when it started, maybe it was the strength of five hundred years ago that had already knocked down his morale. Ignorant and unconscious, because he didn't touch his opponent, he met today, so he realized that he hadn't fired a shot for many years, and he didn't use a gun in the first place.

It is difficult to maintain this indifferent face, this calm eyes. But my heart is surging, tangled, and struggling. I wanted to break through the suffocating barrier, but the gun in my hand couldn't swing out, but the powerful spirit couldn't command the body, and I couldn't even move slightly.

Endless anger swells up to break through everything. He is the harvest, the first killing god, and the fearless Shura evil god. He was powerful, leaving behind a place of scarlet, a place of dead silence.

He is not crippled, he is not crippled, and after breaking through all wills, he is looking down on the Three Realms.

After a roar, the spear in his hand turned into a dragon and rushed out.

The speed is very fast, the gun is very beautiful, it turns into a gun shadow in the sky, bringing countless killings, forcing the killing intent to make people unable to breathe, but it is useless to stab people.

Relaxed, very relaxed. The prodigal son feather walked around with a smile on his face, ignoring it.

The faster the gun, the slower the prodigal feather walked, and he even stopped for a moment to enjoy the scenery.

The more it can't be stabbed, the more urgent the gun becomes, and the more urgent it is, the more it can't stab people. In the messy shadow of the gun, the prodigal son Yu saw that he stopped, and watched the spear pass by, at least it seemed to be still.

It looks like it's showing off its skills, controlling a powerful level. The gun is sharp and beautiful, but it doesn't hurt people, a piece of clothes, a wisp of green silk, and a good ability.

The prodigal son feather ignored the sharpness that passed by his face, and said with a light smile:

"You're not fit to use a gun, even a three-year-old Terran dances better than you, and is more powerful than you. ”

The more rapid the thorn, the more powerful it is. His mouth was already panting, and the muscles of his arm began to tear at root, and he had exhausted his life's strength.

The prodigal son feather looked at the embarrassed and embarrassed Rong Shu stabbing there, and he was already angry. With a light sigh in his mouth, he waved his right hand out.

Swinging rough and heroic, no matter how superb Ren'er's skills, I can break it by myself. But I don't know when a big axe appeared in my right hand, and it opened up a mighty one, splitting mountains and mountains, as if it was a groundbreaking blow.

In an instant, the shadow of the gun disappeared, the heaven and the earth were quiet, and the thousands of miles in front of him were all turned into ruins under an axe, and the sky was clear and refreshing, and there was no cloud for a while.

Although the power is peerless, this axe is not strong for the prodigal feather and the harvest, although the prodigal feather is rough and heroic, but it also retains enough strength.

It's a pity that he couldn't block it, he didn't block it, and he was already terrified the moment this axe appeared.

So he ran, retreated, retreated as fast as he could. The moment the axe appeared, it flew away, thousands of miles away, unscathed.

But he knelt on his knees, deprived of all dignity, with his hands propped on the ground, his cheeks drooping with cold and sinister spirit, and his head bowed to the ground.

His whole body was trembling violently, and his gray face was trembling. He was afraid, he was hating, hating himself, why was it so useless after hundreds of years. Even more cowardly, he wanted to be brave, but he was powerless.

Seeing that the courage to stand up with the axe disappeared, this axe was not strong, but he was still frightened and did not dare to stand up.

For hundreds of years, he thought that he had forgotten and stood up, but he didn't expect that he was still so powerless when it came to the end, and he didn't even have the courage to resist in the face of a weak axe, just because of the similar style and similar heroism.

He will never forget, the high-spirited self of 500 years ago.

Five hundred years ago, the new establishment of the Killing and Punishment Division was really ruthless and unstoppable. God blocked and killed God, met demons and killed demons, and the Three Realms changed color when they heard it.

The high-spirited self, the invincible self, the self that has stained the blood all over the Three Realms in ten years. The thirty-five brothers and their own armor and weapons were all stained with scarlet, as if everything in the Three Realms had been dormant at their feet and trembled, not daring to have the slightest objection.

Everything changed so fast that he didn't expect it to be himself who would tremble soon.

He will never forget the figure that sank his will, trampled him under his feet when he was at his most high-spirited, and ignored him.

Although he was holding the Pangu Axe, although the legend said that it was the Pangu Axe used to open the world, everything was meaningless, and when a sharp and strong weapon touched that man, it was no different from scrap metal.

I will never forget that tall and majestic figure, and I will never forget the rough and heroic axe, an ordinary bronze battle axe.

The man with an axe and a shield, the resolute face full of anger, the man who was furious and vowed to destroy everything.

The anger, the loss, the eyes full of remorse.

No weirdness, no variety, no colorful. It's just an ordinary split, just an ordinary block.

That split, that block is unbeatable.

The one who had just returned from the Netherworld Demon Realm stood on top of the ruins and let out a terrifying roar.

Accompanied by that roar was a split, a block. With just one split and one block, the man slashed all the way up to the sky from the ruins.

Blood spread all over the Three Realms, and the Celestial Race was weeping.

With only an axe and a shield, a split and a block, that man actually slashed all the way to the Nantianmen from the ruins. Split out the rough and heroic, split out the endless remorse, and also split out everything.

Hundreds of millions of miles away, returning to the ruins to the South Heavenly Gate is hundreds of millions of miles away.

Three days, in just three days, that man returned to the ruins and went straight to the heavenly realm.

He who did not walk up, but cut it down.

One hundred thousand, millions of Celestial Race supernatural beings died under that axe, and there were countless Celestial Race weeping and fleeing, like lost dogs.

For a while, he stood on the Nantian Gate in high spirits, blocking the invincible figure. He wants to make achievements, he wants to prove himself, he wants to ..... He didn't ask for anything.

One axe, only one axe. The man didn't care who he was, he didn't care who he was, he was no different from anyone else.

It's just that because he's blocking the way of others, he's also taken that axe. That ordinary bronze battle axe, that ordinary slash.

The Three Realms are regarded as divine weapons, and the Pangu Axe, the strongest weapon, has flew, and I don't know where it flew, and no one has seen it again. Chopping everything he had, his high spirits also chopping him, his whole body burst with blood, weakly paralyzed, so powerless and helpless.

I could only watch the tall and majestic body move forward, and I could only watch secretly, and I didn't even have the courage to look at him, although the man didn't even look at him.

It was impossible to resist, the heavenly realm was weeping in blood, the celestial race was weeping in blood and trembling, and no one dared to stop the pace of progress.

Fortunately, thanks to the Eastern Emperor Taiyi rushed back in time to stop the bloodthirsty madman in front of the Lingxiao Palace. It's a madman, a madman who doesn't care, a madman who only knows how to chop but gives up defense and dodges.

Only know to move forward, straight ahead, without a trace of deviation. Even the Eastern Emperor Taiyi can't stop the madman who is brave and forward, he will not retreat, and he will not take a wrong step.

But he was already crazy, his eyes were red, and he only knew how to move forward. Therefore, Donghuang Taiyi easily swung a sword behind the madman, swung it very hard, and used everything to swing the sword of the Three Realms Supreme.

It was a sword that was no worse than the Second Negative Sword, and according to legend, it was the sword of the Son of Heaven created by Pangu, and it was also the sword of the Emperor of Heaven. No one knows why in the hands of the Eastern Emperor, it is a sword that can cut everything.

So he could easily break through the madman who didn't know how to resist, and the madman was beheaded by that sword, and the Eastern Emperor Taiyi cut off the head full of remorse.

That is the strong, even if the head is lost, it is also a strong man who is standing, a strong man who will stand forever, and that sword also chopped the strong man off the heavenly realm, leaving only the head for the celestial race to vent their endless anger, and anger for that trembling, they are the supreme of the Three Realms, the gods of the Three Realms, it is better to defile.

No one found his body, and when the Eastern Emperor Taiyi arrived, he had disappeared, and someone took the standing body away.

Some say he died, even while standing. But some people say that he is still alive, standing alive, with milk as his eye, with his navel as his mouth, and from time to time waving his dry relatives, continuing his bravery.

Since then, he has lost everything, and he can no longer hold an axe, although he is good at making it.

He held the gun, and after ten years it turned into a scarlet gun, but he didn't use it well, and his true qi became more and more profound, and finally he didn't need to swing a shot anymore, and it had already made all beings surrender and tremble under their feet.

He thought he had forgotten and was in high spirits again. He thought he would never use the axe again, and he would not need it anymore, because his gun made it more ruthless and more desperate.

Who knows that everything is an illusion, it turns out that his gun is so soft, so powerless, even the person standing can't be stabbed, although the prodigal son is not an idle person, but useless is useless, no need for excuses.

He thought he had forgotten that majestic body, but today he had lost everything because of that specious axe, and he was trembling and powerless again.

It turns out that he has never forgotten it, and he has always hidden it in his heart. The person who once boasted of being the first person in the world to use an axe still didn't dare to pick up an axe.

It's not because the guns are more ruthless and more desperate. But because he didn't dare, he hadn't even seen it in five hundred years, let alone pick up an axe.

Everything was so ridiculous, she was trembling and laughing.

The laughter is heartbreaking.