One stroke at a time, every time Su Ming's right hand was raised, and his index finger was drawn, the void in front of him would disappear like a layer of diaphragm.

I don't know how long it has been, Su Ming's movement to draw that sword like a copy has gradually slowed down from the beginning to the fastest.

Drawing stroke by stroke, as time passed, Su Ming didn't know how many strokes he had drawn, how many swords he had copied.

Although he didn't know the specifics, he knew that every stroke he drew looked the same, but in fact it was different, if he drew a thousand strokes, a thousand strokes would be different, and if he drew ten thousand strokes, ten thousand strokes would be different!

But he never found the kind of sadness that Sima Xin exuded when he swung this sword, and it seemed that it could not be integrated with this stroke.

The rules contained in this sword made Su Ming want to draw it the more he wanted to draw it, the more he felt that it was ever-changing, as if there was no mechanism to follow, and it was difficult to fully understand it.

He knew that it would be difficult for him to fully comprehend the power of heaven and earth contained in this sword in a short period of time, so he didn't want to do it all at once, but took a different place with each copy.

Gradually, as time passed, every time Su Ming's right hand fell, he slowly felt that the countless layers of invisible separation that existed between his front and the coming crimson sword would dissipate with it.

With the disappearance of the diaphragm, Su Ming's body slowly got closer and closer to the crimson sword.

Su Ming's expression was calm, but his eyes were empty, as if he had lost his soul, or rather, it seemed that his soul had been integrated into his right index finger, and with the stroke of the pen, it had already spread out in this heaven and earth, to feel the strange changes contained in that sword under the vastness of heaven and earth.

One stroke at a time, like a painting, the invisible diaphragm dissipated one after another, Su Ming's body slowly walked forward, and before he took a single step, he would draw a lot of brushes, making the diaphragm disappear more.

But he clearly knew that now he could only copy the shape of that sword, not its soul, and even if he drew it with his own soul, he couldn't feel the sadness, so he was godless.

"Sad ......" Su Ming muttered, drawing his right hand in front of him again and again, he could find his own sorrow, he could find the sorrow of Wushan, but these sorrows seemed to be missing something, and they couldn't be integrated into this brushstroke, one stroke and one sword.

"There is a lack of vicissitudes of time......" When Su Ming had already walked to the crimson sword that was slashed in mid-air, and the distance between him and this sword seemed to be less than a few feet, Su Ming's body suddenly sudden, and he had a hint of enlightenment.

"Among the people I have encountered, there is one person who has the most vicissitudes of these years......" Su Ming lowered his head, his right eye gradually became blood-red, and it became the blood moon of Wushan.

"The sky of the firmament, how can you cry alone......" Su Ming muttered, closed his eyes, raised his right index finger unconsciously, and made another stroke in front of him, that stroke was tilted, if it was painted on paper, it might just be just such a horizontal stripe, but it was a simple horizontal stripe, but it contained a kind of change in heaven and earth that would move people after seeing it.

At this moment, it was painted in the void, and under the shattering sound that could not be heard by the naked ear, the last invisible barrier between Su Ming and the crimson sword was broken open when it was drawn by Su Ming's finger.

At the moment when it disappeared, Su Ming's right hand was raised again, and a finger was drawn towards the red sword that was no longer the slightest invisible barrier between him and him.

This stroke is just a horizontal stripe, but this horizontal stripe seems to be a stroke, but in fact, it is the pinnacle of the sword trajectory that Su Ming copied after thousands of strokes.

At the moment when this stroke fell, beside him, the countless horizontal lines he had drawn before appeared, these brushstrokes outlined like graffiti, after all of them appeared at this moment, this scene could not be seen by outsiders, because they were painted by Su Ming, and they could only be seen by Su Ming.

At this moment, these countless horizontal strokes, suddenly moved, all condensed in front of Su Ming, and on the last stroke he painted, like overlapping, thousands of strokes were superimposed together, and finally formed the strongest horizontal pattern that Su Ming could draw so far, copying the trajectory of this sword world.

At the moment when this horizontal stripe was drawn, the heavens and the earth roared, as if there was a clicking sound echoing, and the world in front of him was shattered like a mirror, as if a layer had been scraped off, and a burst of uproar echoed, and a sharp whistling fell from the sky.

The surroundings have completely returned to normal, and time seems to be stopped at the moment before Su Ming's comprehension, and at this moment, with the recovery of Xiang, he is also in that moment.

Like everything before, it's an illusion.

Su Ming's expression was in a trance, and his right hand was raised at the moment, keeping it in the strange world just now, drawing the last stroke.

In front of him, the sharp whistling sound came from Sima Xin's crimson sword, this sword now reversed, and with a bang in mid-air, it was impossible to maintain the shape of the sword, and directly turned into a large area of red light, and returned to the colorful mountain behind Sima Xin, who was standing there, with a look of disbelief, looking at Sima Xin behind him with a shocked gaze.

Sima Xin was short of breath, and at this moment, all the people around him who were watching also looked at Su Ming one by one, and there was shock and horror in their eyes.

At that moment, they saw with their own eyes that the moment the crimson sword slashed towards Su Ming, Su Ming didn't react, but when the sword was close to less than ten zhang, Su Ming suddenly raised his head, and his right hand was raised, as if he waved lightly towards the coming crimson sword.

But under this wave, it was between Su Ming and the crimson sword, the heavens and the earth were distorted, and many people didn't see it too clearly, and there was a rumbling sound echoing, and the crimson sword let out a sharp roar, and it was even more difficult to maintain the sword shape in the end!

You know, this is Sima Xin's brute transformation!

After a short silence, an uproar erupted, and the eyes that looked at Su Ming were shocked, as if at this moment, they reacquainted themselves with the unfamiliar face in front of them.

Sima Xin's breath was short, although he was not injured, but at that moment, Su Ming rolled his crimson sword upside down and collapsed with a light wave, which had already shocked him.

He knew the power of his brute god transformation, but it was precisely because he understood that his heart was pounding faster at the moment, and his face was incredulous.

"This can't be! He is not a strong bone sacrificer, how can he dissipate my perception so easily...... And...... And the method of confrontation he had just used...... "Sima Xin couldn't believe what he saw, especially Su Ming's scattered movements, which made him feel familiar.

At that moment, a faint ray of sadness shook his heart.

On the fourth peak, Zuo Jiao, who was wearing a red robe, had a fine light in his eyes at this moment, and took a step with an extremely solemn expression, carefully looking at Su Ming on the battlefield in the distance.

"Make ......," Zuojiao muttered, his gaze not retracting for a long time.

On the rest of the peaks of the Tianhan Sect, there are also many old people who don't often go down the mountain on weekdays, and they are staring at this moment, the battle just now, Su Ming's last wave of power is enough to make their hearts move.

On the eighth peak, the long-haired woman who was always sitting on the raised platform raised her right hand at this moment, pulled down the green silk in her ear, and when she put it down, she gently pointed in front of her, and the arc she drew looked a little similar to the horizontal lines drawn by Su Ming.

It's not the external similarity, but the charm contained in it, there is a similarity, and even when she paints it, there is also a distortion in front of it, as if it is a simple imitation of Su Ming's actions.

"A very gracious stroke... The people of the ninth peak......" The woman smiled slightly.

Under the gate of heaven, in mid-air, the trance on Su Ming's face disappeared and he regained his calm, but his heart was shocked at the moment, but at the same time as he recovered his senses, a sharp pain came out of his body, making Su Ming's face pale, spurting out a mouthful of blood, and his body took a few steps back.

This kind of pain does not come from a certain part of his body, but his whole body, every inch of flesh and blood, every inch of bones, and even the veins and internal organs in his body, all of which are now in severe pain.

This kind of pain came extremely suddenly, as if Su Ming's body was in the middle of nowhere, due to some movements, it exceeded the limit of what his body could bear, making his body and five internal organs show signs of failure.

When Su Ming's body retreated, the Handan Bell not far away had already shrouded the stick worm, and after covering it inside, the Handan Bell shrank suddenly, and finally turned into the size of a bell again, flew towards Su Ming, and fell into Su Ming's hands.

A buzzing sound came from inside the bell, and the vibrating bell kept vibrating in Su Ming's hand, as if the trapped stick worm was struggling frantically.

This Hanshan Bell, Su Ming did not fully grasp it after all, although it can be taken away at will, but in terms of its power, it can only be turned into a sound wave with the sound of the bell, and it can be used to carry out some seals like before.

Sima Xin, who was not far away, after seeing Su Ming spurting out that mouthful of blood, his expression eased a little, and he was no longer as shocked as before, if Su Ming could really wave his barbarian god transformation form at will without the slightest injury, then he Sima Xin would immediately turn around and run away, returning to the first peak where he was in retreat, so as to avoid Su Ming.

But at this moment, after Su Ming's mouth of blood spurted out, Sima Xin regained confidence.

He stared at Su Ming, took a deep breath, his expression had a solemnity that had never appeared before, and his right hand slowly raised, facing the sky like a five-fingered palm in the air.

"If you can take my last form, from now on, I, Sima Xin, will immediately bow down when I see you Su Ming!" Sima Xin resolutely spoke, his five fingers slightly clasped in the air.

In this instant, in the land of Nanchen, there were dozens of tribes, and the sons of barbarian seeds like square trees that Sima Xin had arranged over the years fell in various places, trembling violently at the same time, and lost consciousness.

"Barbarian, heartless**!" Sima Xin's hair was windless, his eyes showed a ghostly light, his arms suddenly stretched out, and the whole person looked in mid-air, demonic!