Xiahou Yuan's speed became faster again, this knife was faster than Fang Cai's two knives, so fast that not only Su Chang'an and the others couldn't see it really, but even Chu Xifeng was in front of him at that time.

He knew that the knife was anything but simple.

Xiahou Yuan's style of "thousands of miles of lonely graves and thousands of ghosts crying" seems to be three knives, but in fact there is only one knife.

This first knife is a borrowing.

This second knife is borrowed from time.

Both knives are made for the cohesion of this third knife.

To put it bluntly, the first two knives are false moves, and only the third knife is a real move.

And as soon as this third knife comes out, it is the momentum of thunder.

It was like a raging fire falling from the nine heavens, and like a silvertail meteor falling from the dome.

Its sound is like thunder, and its power is unstoppable.

Chu Xifeng's brows furrowed, he wanted to dodge, but the blade was already in front of him, so naturally there was no way to retreat. He wanted to raise his knife to block this blow, but it was obvious that Xiahou Yuan's speed was faster than him at this moment, and he didn't know how many times, maybe before he could lift the knife from his chest, his head had been completely cut off by Xiahou Yuan's knife.

The corners of Xiahou Yuan's mouth finally appeared with a smile at this time.

His style of "thousands of miles of lonely graves and thousands of ghosts crying" is his strongest knife, and it is also with this knife that he investigates and asks, and achieves star death.

This sword is his sword, and it is his word.

But this formula was not like this at the beginning, or rather, it was not like this before Sima Xu handed over that kind of thing to him.

It was a drop of blood.

A drop of blood as golden as glass.

He put the blood on his chest, and the blood attached to his chest like a maggot, and his knife became the one now.

At first, this knife was also a three-style.

The first form is borrowing. The third type is cohesion.

It's not far from the current one.

But this second form is a little different.

The power of his move is huge, and it can even be said that as long as he gathers enough strength, even his dead brother, the former Great Wei monarch, Xiahou Haoyu does not dare to say that he is completely sure that he can take it next.

But as Fang just said, he needs to gather enough strength.

But a real master, who would give him so much time to gather such a majestic ghost?

Therefore, his second form is to summon those ghosts to drag his enemies and buy time for his own slash.

So it won't be too long, and the power he has gathered won't be too great.

It's an obvious truth.

As Chu Xifeng thought, time is a very powerful, but at the same time very mysterious concept.

Xiahou Yuan can become a star death, it is undeniable that his talent is outstanding, but in the same way, such a talent is also a middle-class talent among the stars of the past and present. But there are only a few people who can really comprehend the rules of time among these stars.

For example, the sword immortal who founded the Shushan Sword Sect, but had already sat down.

Another example is the Yuheng saint who returned to the light that night and slashed the demigods with a sword.

In the long history of the past and present, there have been tens of thousands of stars, but only a few people can really touch that threshold.

With Xiahou Yuan's qualifications, he would definitely not be able to take a breath of time from those ghosts in the past, gather it in his body, and then use this extra time to gather strength.

But now it's different, when that divine blood enters his body, and his body absorbs a little bit of the power contained in the divine blood, he has such a little bit of ability, and such a little bit of ability.

But it allows him to slash faster, stronger, and more unexpected.

Therefore, when the face of the junior from Jiangdong became ugly, the corners of Xiahou Yuan's mouth smiled even deeper.

He knew he had won.

This seems to be a thing that is not too objectionable.

Because even Chu Xifeng himself felt something.

Whether it was in terms of speed, or the strength of spiritual power, or even the understanding of the Dao, he didn't seem to be able to compete with this sword.

But in the same way, being restrained is not the way for a swordsman to fight the enemy.

At least in Chu Xifeng's dictionary, there has never been, and there will never be, such four words.

So, the young star's brow sank, and the star above him shone violently, scattering a dazzling starlight on his body. The long knife in his hand seemed to feel something, and at that moment there was a rushing sound of the knife.

It seems, at that moment.

Something woke up from his knife.

Time suddenly slowed down again.

And those awakened things also poured into Chu Xifeng's body at this time, and his eyes suddenly flashed with the brilliance of enlightenment after being slightly puzzled.

He looked at Xiahou Yuan's knife that was so close at hand, and looked at the horror that suddenly appeared on his face.

Chu Xifeng said so.

"This knife. People all over the world call it Xiahou blood. ”

"Because my ancestors used him to cut off the head of a Xiahou star martyr. ”

"It is rumored in the world that when my ancestors killed themselves on the bank of the Li River, they left a trace of heroic soul on it, so this knife is spiritual, and it is a rare treasure knife in the world. ”

"But!"

As he said this, he slowly put the knife in his hand across his chest, facing Xiahou Yuan's blade.

But not so. ”

This sound fell, and the time that had just slowed down flowed again, and Xiahou Yuan's blade slammed into the Xiahou blood with an unrivaled force.

The horror on Xiahou Yuan's face was suppressed by him, and he didn't know why Chu Xifeng could stop for so many breaths.

But it is clear that his ability is also very weak, and he can only act on himself.

Although he drew his knife and stood in front of him. But Xiahou Yuan didn't think that such a Chu Xifeng could take over his mighty sword. So he showed a crazy look on his face, he wanted to use this knife to end the life of this natural wounded descendant, and also end his hundred years of panic.

But to his surprise, the moment the two knives met.

The shattering, knocking, and knocking back he had expected didn't happen.

Even, Chu Xifeng didn't even bend his arm in the slightest, and he took the knife that he had almost exhausted all his strength in this way.

As if in response to the doubts in his heart, Chu Xifeng's cold voice sounded again.

"There is indeed a soul hidden in this knife. But not the heroic souls of the ancestors, but "

He paused, and for the first time his eyes looked straight at the enemy that his ancestors had been eager to kill.

It stands to reason that this should be a very exciting moment, and the family's century-old wish will be fulfilled in his hands.

But it was very strange that Chu Xifeng's eyes were as cold, gloomy, and even indifferent as his words.

And this kind of indifference, more often, is used to look at the inconsequential dead.

Obviously, in the eyes of Chu Xifeng now, Xiahou Yuan is already a dead man.

"Residing in this knife are the undead of the 230,000 civilians who were slaughtered by you and Xiahou a hundred years ago!"

Chu Xifeng's voice suddenly amplified at that moment, and the Xiahou blood in his hand suddenly shook, and a black qi that was a hundred times more majestic than the ghost qi condensed by Xiahou Yuan's deliberate efforts suddenly spread out at this moment!

A heart-rending roar also came from those black gases at this moment, and Xiahou Yuan's face finally became extremely ugly at that time, and cold sweat appeared on his forehead.

He could clearly feel the resentment contained in the bodies of those hundred-year-old ghosts, and the target of these resentments was obviously him, the culprit.

Almost subconsciously, when his body moved, he had no time to compete with Chu Xifeng, the ghost qi on his knife suddenly dissipated, and his body was about to flee into the distance as soon as he moved.

Knowing this, he understood.

What was it that had been making him uneasy and sleepless at night for hundreds of years?

It's not those swordsmen who live on the banks of the Li River, and it's not the cold eyes of the star a hundred years ago.

It's the ghosts who don't know how to hide in the knife and don't know how to live for a hundred years, and they keep cursing against him day and night!

At this moment, he no longer cared about the illustrious status of King Ying of Great Wei, nor did he care about the pride of Tianjiao as a star. His heart was already filled with fear, and all he knew and thought was to flee from here and from the entanglement of the two hundred and thirty thousand undead at this moment.

But. He had just escaped a distance of only a few hundred feet, but his body froze violently at that moment.

Then, a cold voice sounded in his ears again.

"The three swords are gone, your head, what will happen to me?"