Song Qiu stood with a whip. Pen, fun, and www.biquge.info

Qingyue reflected on Song Qiu's faces and some green pheasants, looking resolute and brave.

Qingxiazi stood not far away, looking at Song Qiu coldly, seeing that Song Qiu was only confused for a very short time under his own coercion, and almost instantly regained his confidence, and his fighting spirit was rekindled in his eyes, and he couldn't help but be a little surprised.

Very few people can maintain self-confidence in the face of a clear gap between the strong and the weak.

Although Song Qiu's sudden increase in strength was completely unexpected, he was even more shocked and surprised by the ease of defeating the many disciples who had killed him. Especially thinking that behind Song Qiu, there must be an extremely terrifying secret organization hidden, and the pressure in Qing Xiazi's heart was like pressing on a huge mountain.

However, those things are for the future, at least tonight, he still has the absolute initiative.

He wants Song Qiu to die, and Song Qiu must die.

All that Song Qiu is doing now will only be a useless struggle.

He admitted that he was extremely envious of Song Qiu's cultivation talent, very jealous, and even felt a little scared.

In just two days, Xiu Wei had improved at least two great realms, this kind of thing had never been heard of before, and it would never happen again.

In the face of such a young genius with unlimited potential, he only has four words - cut the grass and eradicate the roots.

Holding his waist with both hands, Qingxiazi touched his slightly bulging little belly, which was a small habit of his, and he would make such an action whenever he wanted to kill someone.

This is reminding himself that he is no longer young, and time is no longer on his side, so if you want to kill, you must hurry up, and if you can kill today, you must not stay until tomorrow.

Qingxiazi patted her belly, which felt a little bigger, and looked up and sighed that time was really a bag of pig feed that could not be fed.

He looked up at the moon, if it weren't for the fat on his face and a little bloated, he really had the feeling of a poet looking at the moon.

Qingxiazi looked at the moon, but Song Qiu knew that he couldn't continue to consume with Qingxiazi.

Qingxiazi's every move has brought him great coercion and oppression, and every minute that passes, his physical strength and mental strength will be consumed a little more, and after a while, the belief he just gave birth to will be exhausted again.

Song Qiu's eyes were shining, like a lighthouse lit up in the dark, which was particularly eye-catching.

The aura in his body is running at full strength, and the momentum of his whole body is soaring like a tide.

The bright moon is in my heart.

Long knife in hand.

Whipping the gods whips out like a dragon.

The sword qi wrapped in the rolling river under the bright moon, surging and surging forward.

Qingxiazi smiled contemptuously and sneeringly, raised her hand holding her waist, and punched out a flat punch.

Compared with the Qingcheng faction's peerless swordsmanship, Qingxiazi prefers fists.

Especially when facing the weak.

Because it's more direct, more domineering, and more powerful.

He likes the sound of his fists crashing against other people's bones and smashing them, and he thinks it's the most beautiful music in the world.

When Song Qiu and Qingxiazi first met, Qingxiazi used her fists. At that time, he wanted to smash Song Qiu's sternum with one punch and listen to the clattering sound of broken bones, but Monk Daozhen's indifferent kick crushed all his thoughts.

This monk is too strong, so strong that he can't give birth to the idea of confronting.

It turns out that in front of the absolute powerhouse, even thinking about it is a luxury.

This was all Qingxiazi thought at that time.

At Monk Daozhen, Qing Xiazi thought that he had been greatly insulted, and he decided that he must double this insult to Song Qiu tonight.

The fist intersected with Song Qiu's sword wind.

The indomitable sword wind was completely overshadowed by Qingxiazi's fist, and the storm turned into a gentle drizzle in an instant, and finally dissipated invisibly.

Qingxiazi closed her fist.

Sometimes backing down doesn't mean backing down, but moving forward better.

Qingxiazi's fist then struck again.

This time the punch was even more fierce than the punch just now.

The whirring fist wind blasted towards Song Qiu, like an unstoppable torrent.

A knife can cut off the water, so can a horizontal knife stop the torrent?

Song Qiu didn't know, but he wanted to try.

The whip was re-horizontally to the chest, and a knife with the essence of the three-pointed and two-edged blade knife technique was slashed out diagonally from the bottom to the top, like a master of Chinese painting splashing ink.

The sword wind and the torrent meet.

The knife snapped the blade, and the torrent turned the river.

No one was able to win.

But after all, it was stopped, and Song Qiu felt very satisfied.

If there is satisfaction, there will naturally be dissatisfaction, Song Qiu is satisfied, and Qingxiazi is of course very dissatisfied.

He frowned slightly, stopped looking at the moon, and turned his head to look at Song Qiu.

"You're good. Qingxiazi said.

He said seriously: "At your age, I am probably not half as strong as you. But the matter of cultivation sounds profound and mysterious, but after all, it is a process of accumulation, and my cultivation time is much longer than yours, so I am also much stronger than you. I think you also understand that tonight between the two groups of us, there must be a life and death between you. I'm better than you, so please die. ”

This is an affirmation of Song Qiu and a verdict for Song Qiu.

One of his hands still fell on his waist, and his palm swept around his waist, and he drew a soft sword from his belt.

Song Qiu's performance made him decide to play the sword.

He likes fists, but after all, he is the head of the Qingcheng faction, and the sword is the foundation of the Qingcheng faction in the immortal cultivation world, so his strongest weapon is still the sword.

The swordsmanship of the Qingcheng faction is very similar to the environment of Qingcheng Mountain, very secluded, very quiet, and there is a smell of dust removal without fireworks.

Gently handed out a sword, the sword body was like a poisonous snake swaying and swinging its body, passing through the defense of the divine whip and biting directly on Song Qiu's arm holding the weapon.

A little scarlet quickly seeped out of his clothes, and Song Qiu covered his arms and pinched hard, but he was still unconscious.

Qingxiazi smiled slightly, and the second sword continued to stab out without stopping.

The soft sword body vibrated in the wind, like the song of the golden iron horse played from the zither.

At this time, Erlang God had completely suppressed the black-robed man with all his physical strength, and the seven evil ghosts had also dimmed their souls, floating in the air, crumbling, and it seemed that they might disappear at any time.

He heard the blade of the sword coming from the wind, and looked up.

I saw that the sword kept shaking and twisting in the air, stabbing towards Song Qiu, the sword technique was strange but undodge-at - at least it was definitely not something that Song Qiu could dodge now.

It's too late for Erlang God to come to the rescue.

Song Qiu covered his right shoulder with his left hand, and he was powerless to parry this sword.

From any point of view, it seems that Song Qiu has no means of escape.

There is no escape, only death.