Chapter 54: Escape

In the chaotic wind and snow on the ground, it was surprisingly quiet, and in the empty white, it was as quiet as a tomb, except for the roaring wind and snow around it, there was nothing else. Pen % fun % Pavilion www.biquge.info

The dark red of the bloody hell filled the dark space, the air was filled with a thick smell of blood, their feet were soaked in the stinking blood, and the wisps of flesh were accompanied by the sound of bones breaking, like a demonic sound, crowded their ears.

Zhao Haochen's face was pale and weak, the cold exuded from his body, like a thousand years of ice, eternal, the hot blood covered his complexion with a layer of frost, the sharp long sword was washed by blood, the hideous sword qi was overflowing, and the whole person exuded a huge evil aura, this bloody hell was his home field, he had become one with here, blood was his source, and thousands of corpses were his driving force.

I am the king of the bloody hell, who dares to come to war?

The huge damp heat diffused in the passage also instantly became cold to the bone, and they all shivered coldly, looking at the countless pieces of flesh that exuded mucus mixed with plasma, Zhao Haochen frowned, and his trembling pupils were filled with indescribable sadness.

The fate of these red-clothed messengers is also too sad, they have not seen the morning sun, let alone the beauty of spring, the beauty of winter, the sunset in the evening is unheard of, their world is this bloody hell, they have never stepped out of here.

Born to be an instrument of domination, doomed to perdition.

They are machines, they don't have a mind of their own, they obey orders completely.

"I'll give you one last chance, get out of the way, I'll take you out!" Zhao Haochen's cold and dark eyes flashed with grief, fighting for more benefits for this group of numb people.

Under the gaze of his sad and angry eyes, the red-clothed messenger still stood there neatly, no one made the slightest movement, the eyes under the red hood were dim, only the bloody killing intent burst out.

Zhao Haochen was silent.

The three black balls in his hand shimmered with the unique luster of metal, which were the raw materials that the Thunderbolt God Thunder, Zhao Haochen stole from Zhuge Mansion, just in case.

Of the nearly four hundred sword cultivators who were rescued, there were less than two hundred people standing behind Zhao Haochen at this moment, the blood-drenched body was eye-catching, and the blood dripping in the dead air rolled down into the pool of blood under his feet, making a penetrating sound, as if fear had seized his heart, and he kept trembling.

The vast resolute and fearless aura filled this huge space, and on the opposite side, the breath of the red-clothed messenger was still long, orderly, and without the slightest trembling.

"The sword cultivation of the Sword Emperor Pavilion is out of the ranks!" Zhao Haochen suddenly snorted coldly, and twelve middle-aged men who were angry and full of sword eyebrows, exuding an unyielding and fierce temperament, suddenly stood up, like twelve sharp swords rushing into the sky.

At this moment, Zhao Haochen's expression was shocked, he seemed to see the figure of the Sword Emperor, and a strong sour feeling came to his heart, this was not the influence of the sword soul, but the feeling of the heart.

The momentum on Zhao Haochen's body seemed to be attracted, and it involuntarily emanated, merging with these twelve people.

"Sword!" the twelve people were overjoyed and bowed down solemnly.

"I'm in the center, and your duty is to rush forward and kill!" "Dominating the world and the nine heavens, I am the emperor, the king is the master, and the emperor's qi that controls the world suddenly bursts out, and at this moment, he is the emperor.

"Yes!"

"The rest of the people guarded the wounded and rushed out with all their might!"

"Yes!"

The Sword Emperor Pavilion is the place of pilgrimage for all sword cultivators, the Sword Emperor is the emperor of the sword, the sword is the successor of the Sword Emperor, the sword is their soul, and the existence of the sword cultivator cannot be betrayed.

The boundless blizzard on the ground, enveloping the heaven and the earth in chaos, tearing the ground ragingly, the huge red shirt trees around swayed, and the goose-feather-like snow overwhelmed the world, as if to bury this piece of heaven and earth, bury this river and lake.

"Kill!"

His blood-stained chest was bare in the air, exuding scorching heat, his face was resolute, sad and fierce, his pupils were swirling with blood-red light, and the black hair that covered his shoulders was already stained red with blood.

The deep voice was like a roar, which set off a battle in which the earth was stained with blood and the sky was weeping.

At the same time, Zhao Haochen's arm suddenly waved, and three black balls came out of his hand and fell into the crowd of red-clothed messengers waiting at the passage, the sword flashed, but it still failed to curb the trend of the iron ball.

The terrifying energy storm exploded and surged in an instant, sparks shot out, and this bloody hell shook violently, as if a crack suddenly opened, and the wind and snow poured in from above, and the cold and biting wind and snow seemed to condense the darkness hidden under the ground.

The dazzling light poured down from the sky, and the red-clothed messengers who lived underground all the year round were stunned, their faces solemn, thinking that the end was coming, and their movements were a little slow.

"Whew--"

"Whew--"

There were two sounds of metal cutting things in the air, and a sword light as lightning swept through the necks of the two red-clothed messengers, and the hot blood was even more vivid and bloody under the reflection of the sun, and the flickering sword light in the air woke up many sword cultivators, and they all started a one-sided slaughter.

Sunshine is the ultimate killer against darkness.

The red-clothed messengers had never seen the sun, and their perception was only in this bloody hell, as if death had choked them, fear had seized their hearts, and the faces under the blood-red hood were terrified and confused.

Zhao Haochen glimpsed their faces under their blood-red hoods through the sunlight.

The miserable white face, the two sunken eyes are like two dark caves, devouring everything in front of them, like a midnight ghost shaking their thin scaffolding, his gaze stayed on their mouths, his blood-stained but still handsome face was horrific with anger, chewing on the wisps of flesh and blood on the ground, this corpse was their food, and the smell of blood made Zhao Haochen retch.

This can no longer be called people, killing them, for them, is a kind of salvation.

There was an eerie terror between his eyebrows, this is the horror of the rivers and lakes, this is the sin of the rivers and lakes.

A deeper darkness hung between his brows.

The brilliance of the sun has undoubtedly become their greatest help, when they look at the brilliant sunshine above their heads, enjoying the happiness brought by the light, each of them is drenched in blood, their faces are full of anger and pathos, and there are less than a hundred people standing here.

Behind him, the white figure in the white expanse flickered frequently, coming towards them, and the cold sword in his hand made the killing intent in Zhao Haochen's heart accumulate to the extreme.

Holding their tired figures, they marched towards the vast thousands of miles of wasteland, and only here can they find a glimmer of life......