So, at dawn the next day, Xie Junhe stood in the school training ground with his remnant sword in his hand.

Although the cold wind of the snowy hunting wind made the flags around the school yard rattle, but looking up, the warm spring sun shone on this land after all, gently and flexibly, against the cold that could not be pryed.

Xie Junhe shook the dusty black robe, stepped on the dust under his feet, shook the hilt of the sword in his hand, and proudly raised his sword-like eyebrows. On the other side, Zhao Haijun was smiling coldly, and the smile was reflected on Pu Dao, forming a terrifying picture - he was bound to win. In the distance, there were the protégés of the Zhao family—those people were gearing up one by one, looking forward to a slaughter to vent their anger.

"Make a move. Zhao Haijun said quietly.

The sword light rose and swept through the sky, shooting towards Zhao Haijun like electricity.

At the moment when he passed by, Zhao Haijun still didn't move his footsteps, not even the knife, he just turned sideways.

But when Xie Junhe turned around, he found that Zhao Haijun was standing in place unharmed.

Xie Junhe was a little stunned. Although he knew that his strength had been greatly reduced due to injury, he really didn't expect Zhao Haijun to be able to fight so easily.

"Giggles", the icy smile is piercingly cold. Zhao Haijun said calmly: "Blood ghosts kill people, and one knife is fatal." Your Xie Junhe's most powerful ability is undoubtedly this first sword, taking advantage of the unpreparedness, a sudden blow between the virtual and the real, how many masters can't resist that momentum. But if it is investigated, it is really not surprising. Konoha defeated you by dissolving your oppressive momentum. Ten years, you haven't grown at all!"

It turned out that this person had pondered himself so thoroughly, Xie Junhe sighed in a deep voice: "That's right, in the past ten years, I have spent all my time drinking......" guessed, is this guy thinking about how to kill Xie Junhe every day?

"Then let's die!" The long-handled Pu knife in Zhao Haijun's hand suddenly swung like a wheel and swept over. The wild sand all over the ground instantly blurred Xie Junhe's sight—he couldn't see anything clearly, not even the direction of the blade. Instinctively, a sword flew away, intending to block. However, the moment the Pu Dao and the remnant sword were entangled, sparks shot out, and a powerful suction force retracted the remnant sword, although the sword was swinging, it was no longer under Xie Junhe's control.

"Qianjun Slash!" he recognized this Zhao family's knife technique. Once, in the dark of night, against this trick. That's how that person fought to the death. As a result, there was no resistance to his remnant sword. Blood-soaked night......

The scars on the remnant sword flashed with a grumbling light. The sword was nearly torn apart. In the upside-down and chaotic stirring, Xie Junhe clearly felt that every inch of his bones was squeaked. The hand was too tight from the blade, Jun He pushed hard, and the remnant sword galloped out, flipping in the air. Jun He jumped up, grabbed his sword and pounced behind Zhao Haijun like a tiger.

However, the knife wheel suddenly turned into a poisonous mist.

Just when he was hesitating and didn't know where to start, Pu Dao suddenly shot straight at Xie Junhe.

It's too late to regain momentum, and dodging won't help. The remnant sword slashed, and the simple knife was as steady as Mount Tai.

Xie Junhe shuddered, helplessly enduring the chill through his body. "Stone Heaven!" he recognized again, these were the two most powerful moves in the Zhao family's sword technique. But late. The knife had been pierced deep into the waist and abdomen, and blood gushed out of the wound, soaking the black robe into a shiny glow. He leaned against his sword and stood still. The pain of the arrow wound in his back yesterday struck again, and the front and back strikes almost hollowed him out. Lost so quickly?

Zhao Haijun laughed loudly, his eyes full of contempt and disdain. The people around him followed him and laughed loudly, laughing like a whip.

The sword almost slipped out of his hand. He immediately stabilized himself: they can't lose, the sea of snow is still in their hands. However, the injury on his waist and abdomen has made him unable to stand up straight, and only a slight rickety can reduce the pain of this tear.

"Where did Xie Junhe go back then?" he heard someone shouting. Yes, where did Xie Junhe, who killed the sixteen members of the Zhao family in one night, go? He himself wanted to know. Among the sixteen members of the Zhao family, five of them were top masters in their prime, but Xie Junhe, who was hiding in the shadows, killing them was like chopping melons and vegetables, and they didn't even have a chance to shout. In front of many strong hands, Xie Junhe, who sealed his throat with a sword, seemed to have lost his soul by the long river ten years ago. So who is this one standing against Zhao Haijun? He still doesn't know.

He couldn't remember the numbness he felt when he killed people. I didn't even dare to think about why I would solve it with the baby back then.

But Zhao Haijun clearly remembered every blood debt, waiting for him to redeem it day after day, and for this reason, he practiced the Zhao family's knife technique to the point of perfection, just to wait for one day to repay the old grudges one by one.

"Remember, how you killed my uncle!"

In the vagueness, he still remembered, when the sharp pain in his waist and abdomen hit, he remembered that many years ago, he was the same, a sword pierced through the body of a strong man. But he didn't know who the man was, and he didn't know why anyone else wanted him to die. All he knew was that as long as the person opposite died, he would be able to change a month of meat to eat.

He didn't mind if God came to take his life, but not now.

"Can't lose. "When I looked up, I saw that the sun was a little dazzling.

The mysterious words of the dungeon lingered in his mind again. If this god-like power had already helped him once, why not help him again?" he smiled, trying to steady his breath from the pain.

"You've already lost. Zhao Haijun looked at him like admiring the prey in his hand.

"A battle of life and death, you must not die. ”

"Okay!" Zhao Haijun was in the middle of this, and the laughter of the spectators not far away rose and fell, and no one could believe that Xie Junhe would be able to walk out of the school alive today.

So these people indifferently watched the Pu knife in Zhao Haijun's hand transform into various postures like a butterfly dance, slashing at the enemy that everyone hated. Pu Dao was gradually impregnated with red, and there were no injuries on his arms, chest, abdomen, back, and neck. Behind each knife is a story, connecting that tragic night more than ten years ago. Every sword that falls on his body today is exactly every sword he swung out to take people's lives.

Repeatedly knocked down, repeatedly stabbed, and repeatedly on the verge of death. Sixteen fresh lives, Zhao Haijun wanted him to die sixteen times. But he got up again and again, standing upright, like a dead tree that could not be cut down, with broken branches and leaves all over the ground, covered with bruises, and still standing speechless in the wind.

It was the fifteenth time he had fallen, and in a pool of blood, he shivered and froze. Even the sun was teasing him, the light was just dazzling, and it didn't pass on any heat to him. His lips were furrowed, and a faint breath came out of his mouth, and there was a thick blood. It was the first time he was so hostile to his past self - if he could, it would not be Zhao Haijun who he wanted to defeat the most, but the madman-like teenager more than ten years ago.

There is an urge to strangle yourself alive, not a joke.

"Kill him, kill him, kill him!" the shouts of the spectators came like a sea of mountains, engulfing the sound of swords.

Other...... He took a deep breath and stood up trembling again. He can't die here yet.

The chaotic knife fell like a starry sky, falling on the flesh and blood, splashing a rain of blood.