The world's martial arts are all murderous techniques.

Since it is a killing technique, it is necessary to be proficient in the strength and weakness of people.

Therefore, martial arts people often only need to make a gesture to see the person's physical skills, and closely deduce that in the process of fighting against the enemy, there is a chance of victory and a danger of stepping on the Yellow Spring.

Ni Honglong, who is known as the 'second sword in martial arts', is naturally the same.

At the moment when the purple-robed volley sword clashed with its iron broadsword, Ni Honglong, who dominated the martial arts, was already clear about most of it.

This son of the Sima family is better than me.

This victory is not in strength, physique, and bones, nor in skill, experience, and training.

Just a feeling.

A feeling similar to that people will not be able to conquer the sky, and mortals cannot talk to the immortal body.

I don't know if it was because of the deed on the sword, or if it was deeply ingrained in his heart early on.

A feeling of frustration, fear, insignificance.

'The martial arts in the world are all stepping stones for the Qimen family. ’

I don't know who said that.

Is it the proud master of the Qimen family? Is it the lonely hero of the martial arts? Or is it a wise hermit who lives in seclusion in the landscape?

Ni Honglong probably can't remember.

Ni Honglong only knew that when the purple robe handed over the atmospheric sword that fell from the sky just now, this sentence hidden in the depths of his heart suddenly jumped out of the water, plucked his divine strings, and disturbed the iron ring that should have been as stable as Mount Tai.

Although it is only a slight tremor, even the purple robe outside the zhang may not be noticed, but the matter of martial arts, what is sought is a seamless and inviolable thing. The so-called embankment of a thousand miles is destroyed in the anthill, which has this meaning: in the martial arts, the more profound the person like Ni Honglong, the more he requires a supreme perfection realm - once the perfection is no longer there, his martial arts and even his state of mind will fall rapidly, making the moves more worried and hesitant, and the spirituality and freedom fade away one after another, until he becomes an ordinary martial artist who can only rely on strength and skill to show bravery.

There is only the word 'martial arts' left, and there is less 'gong'.

I saw Ni Honglong, who was tall and tall, took a long breath, tightly stabilized the iron broadsword, and his thick black eyebrows turned into stretches from tightening, and then slowly spit out the breath of anger that had just been inhaled into his heart.

Wulin can't beat Qimen, he knows it.

After all, it is the truth summed up by the martial arts predecessors for hundreds of years, and it is impossible for him not to understand it since he was a martial arts person since he was a child.

But Ni Honglong didn't believe it, and he didn't want to believe it.

How could the martial arts on the vast plains and the martial arts of the world be better than the Qimen in the remote Western Regions?

How can those strange tricks that blow into the sky, go to the sky and the earth at every turn, and move mountains and reclaim the sea, can really exist?

After all, there is only one peak in the world.

"I think this strange gate is actually just a trick to play a few flying sword tricks!"

Adhering to such a belief, Ni Honglong traveled to the Western Regions with a sword, and wanted to see the true appearance of this strange sect trick.

Then, today, there is a glimpse.

It's not the volley sword itself, it's not the purple robe's mysterious footwork, and it's not the flying sword of the rotten street.

Just a feeling.

"Qimen of the Western Regions!"

Suddenly, there was a loud sound, starting from the vermilion scarlet.

Suddenly, I poked my head and saw a tiger in my eyes.

It was this burly and majestic Ni Honglong, with his feet stepping on the earth-shaking steps, rushing towards the fluttering purple robe outside the zhang.

"Qimen of the Western Regions!"

Its voice was strong, trembling the yellow sand in the courtyard.

"Eat me!"

Dear, this chapter is over, I wish you a happy reading ^0^, Baidu search pen fun cow, remember us in a second!