Zhi Xuan Mountain at the foot of the mountain.
The light and dark change, flickering and uncertain.
The view here is distorted, as if ti and space are inverted.
The figure of the man in the silver mask flashes, sotis fast, sotis slow, creating layers of afterimages.
In an instant, it seems as if countless figures appear at this place.
The speed of the sword varies as well.
In the line of sight, the sequence is severely split.
The figure in front has clearly dissipated, but the figure behind still exists, with endless afterimages.
The only constant is the bodies falling to the ground.
At this mont, Jiang Ning urges the Taixu Yin Yang Sword, attacking the mountain gate like a tiger among a flock of sheep.
Behind his figure, bodies fall to the ground.
Blood flows in torrents.
Red and white mixtures are flowing across the ground.
Monts later, Jiang Ning reaches the mountain gate leading to the upper part of Middle Finger Mountain.
Looking up the stone steps, the stairs disappear into lush greenery.
Behind, the once-renowned grandmasters lie lifeless on the ground.
At this mont, Feng Zhen looks at Jiang Ning’s back, his robe is fluttered by the mountain wind blowing from above, suddenly feeling awe.
The scales of victory are still tilting, but the man wearing the silver mask instantly stabilizes the battle situation with his fists.
"What realm of swordsmanship is that?" Thinking of the movents when the silver mask man shot, he secretly takes a cool breath.
Void fluctuations, distorted vision, flickering light...
All these anomalies indicate that the swordsmanship used by the man wearing the silver mask is beyond his imagination.
He then takes a deep breath, actively moving forward.
"Master Feng, I’ll leave the rest to you!" Jiang Ning says without turning his head to Feng Zhen, who cos up behind him.
"No problem, thank you for your help!" Feng Zhen responds to Jiang Ning’s back with a bow of thanks.
Suppressing the fluctuations in his heart, he starts to arrange the people beside him.
And at this mont.
Jiang Ning is about to head to the battlefield of Purple Robe Marquis Zhou Sheng.
Boom—
A thunderous roar is heard overhead.
He suddenly sees Zhou Sheng wearing a purple robe being blasted away.
His clothes are in tatters, no longer as dignified as before, appearing a bit embarrassed.
In the next mont.
A figure flashes, ascending over the crowd.
The newcor’s robe floats gracefully like clouds, his long hair flows like a waterfall of the galaxy.
This newcor is Yun Shanhe.
At this mont, Yun Shanhe bows his head, his gaze sweeping.
He sees the separated body of Fang Daoquan, sees the lifeless bodies, a hint of sadness revealing deep in his eyes.
Then, his gaze suddenly falls on Jiang Ning.
"Who are you?"
"Just an unknown person!" Jiang Ning replies calmly.
"You can’t be an unknown person if you can kill Fang Daoquan!" Yun Shanhe speaks, his tone calm.
Then continues: "Although you hide your appearance, I can sense that your body is very young!"
"Master Yun!" At this mont, a figure flickers forward, suddenly appearing in front of Yun Shanhe.
This figure is Purple Robe Marquis Zhou Sheng.
Upon hearing Zhou Sheng’s words, Yun Shanhe raises his eyes, his gaze landing on Zhou Sheng.
"Zhou Sheng, you are indeed harder to deal with than I imagined, but with just your strength, you can’t defeat Zhi Xuan Mountain!"
"How would I know without trying?" Zhou Sheng, wearing the purple python robe, smiles.
The words fall.
Zhou Sheng’s voice rises again.
"Your Highness, please lend your support! As long as you can stall this one, Zhi Xuan Mountain will beco history today."
"Alright!" Jiang Ning responds.
He understands why Zhou Sheng calls him this.
It’s an attempt to hide his identity.
After Yun Shanhe’s previous words, there remains a possibility pointing to him.
After all, speaking of youth, among the surrounding prefectures of Five Mountains Prefecture, who among martial artists with such power can be younger than him?
In the next mont.
Jiang Ning’s figure flashes, arriving beside Purple Robe Marquis Zhou Sheng.
"Marquis!" Jiang Ning says calmly.
Zhou Sheng gives Jiang Ning a look and nods slightly.
At this mont, figures fly across the five peaks below like the wind.
Through the iron cable bridges between the peaks, martial artists full of Qi-Blood rush toward Middle Finger Peak.
Midway up Middle Finger Peak.
Having already broken faces, Feng Zhen no longer has any scruples, leading the crowd swiftly along the mountain path.
Encountering chanisms or hidden sentries.
All are easily dealt with by him.
One vibrant life after another withering in his hands.
"The Marquis orders, kill any who resist!" Seeing several figures suddenly appear ahead, Feng Zhen shouts.
The number of grandmasters of Zhi Xuan Mountain has always been a puzzling matter.
Normally, even for a power as formidable as Zhi Xuan Mountain.
The maximum number of Third Grade Grandmaster Martial Artists should not exceed both hands; having more is almost impossible and unreasonable.
However, the grandmasters of Zhi Xuan Mountain number over twenty, quite irrational.
Therefore, despite holding the advantage, he remains highly vigilant.
Because he knows, the greatest power of Zhi Xuan Mountain is not Fang Daoquan and Yun Shanhe, but the force behind Zhi Xuan Mountain.
Just then.
"Enough!!"
A figure suddenly echoes from above.
As if coming from high above, or from all directions.
"The farce should end!"
The voice resounds again.
Jiang Ning’s eyes narrow, scanning his surroundings, not spotting anything amiss.
He instinctively wants to use Fire Eye, then recollects himself, quickly suppressing that impulse.
Because he is currently wearing a silver mask and a brocade robe made by Xuan Shuang Weaving to conceal his identity.
If he reveals Fire Eye, such a distinctive personal trait would make the supposed hidden identity laughable.
But at this mont, without using Fire Eye or activating Heavenly Eye, he suddenly feels as if he’s beco blind.
User Comments
0 comments from readers