Fantastic Fantasy: The Daughter of Cloud Raising Luck at the Opening

hum-

There was a roar that sounded like an ancient dragon chant, and the surrounding tanks full of water were blown to pieces with a bang.

At the corner of the street, a half-person-high black figure slowly came out, the sword in his hand vibrated slightly, and the raindrops whimpered three feet away from the sword.

"coming?"

Wang Hunzhuo clenched his fist lightly, with a hint of joy of reuniting an old friend in his tone.

Seeing that this person ignored him, Wang Huozhuo continued on his own: "It has been more than ten years since we last said goodbye?"

"Little man."

Sun Dasheng's lips were timid, and he snorted coldly, tightly clutching the long sword in the shape of a stick in his hand.

"Everyone is the master, and each performs his duties."

Wang Hunzhuo shook his head lightly, apparently not agreeing with his thoughts.

"I didn't expect you to recover in such a short time, but I'm a little curious."

Wang Huanzhuo raised his eyebrows slightly, "Have you forgotten the pain of being broken by me? How dare you come back for revenge?"

hum-

A green light flashed, and a bright green stick sword protruded out of nowhere from the rain curtain.

Sun Dasheng held the sword in both hands, and the Zhuxian sword became round, covering Wang's turbid forehead with a blow to the head.

"Ah."

Wang Hunzhuo turned sideways slightly, dodging the sudden sword attack, and said tauntingly: "You treat a good sword like a wooden stick, but it's really overkill."

After missing a hit, Sun Dasheng hurriedly got back on his feet. The experience of the last fight told him not to get too close to Wang Huozhuo.

"Noisy!"

Sun Dasheng, who took a few steps back, burst out with spiritual energy, and the violent momentum made him soar into the sky like a rocket.

"hiss……"

Wang Hunzhuo looked at the familiar sword style, curled his lips and cursed: "I really don't have a long memory, use my sword in front of me?"

brake!
A ray of sword light pierced the rain curtain and fell from the sky.

It also works well.

Wang Hunzhuo sighed secretly in his heart, it seems that Jian Ling's talent is still good.

Both fists are boiling red, from bottom to top.

The fist style burst into brilliant red light.

boom--

The house crumbled inch by inch, and then restored to its original state with the endless force of life.

The floor of the marble slab in the capital was split open violently, and the silk threads hidden in it were even more shattered.

The big formation in the capital loosened up this night.

The red light and the green light collided together, and the sky was rendered in a different color.

"it is good!"

Wang Hunzhuo's pupils narrowed slightly, he didn't expect that the sword spirit of Zhuxian Sword would be able to fight without losing the wind.

Boom, boom, boom!

Wang Hunzhuo seemed to be an indefatigable machine, and spread out his fist to block the supreme sword intent emanating from Zhuxian Sword.

Punch after punch.

click-

As if something was broken, Wang Muzhuo's face was slightly happy.

hum.

His face froze suddenly again, and the sound of swords passing by his ears shocked Wang Hunzhuo.

He lowered his head, looking at the sword piercing through him with almost dull eyes.

The dark green sword body was stained blood red by the blood, the blade shone with cold light, and the broken sword body almost completely fell into Wang Huozhuo's body.

It seems to be telling his pride.

"Why, why?"

There was no fear in Wang's muddy eyes, only deep surprise.

As a fairy sword that has existed for thousands of years, what it should understand is that it can't kill itself at all.

Moreover, the fists filled in the body will completely destroy and rot the blade of this fairy sword.

"I haven't recovered. This sword is my last obsession in this life."

The phantom of Sun Dasheng appeared in front of Wang Huozhuo.

The bloody little monkey held the dilapidated Zhu Xian in his hand, and the sword pierced through Wang's muddy body.

His figure began to slowly disappear.

That is the spiritual energy passing away, and the sword energy is sinking.

The rain on the whole street was scorched by the scorching sword energy.

"Wang Huanzhuo, do you regret it?"

Sun Dasheng smiled bitterly: "I regret it, if I could have become stronger back then, I wouldn't have allowed you to do such evil things."

"But I want to know, do you regret it?"

Witnessing the last old friend disappearing in front of his own eyes, Wang Hunzhuo was surprisingly flustered.

If these ancient people are gone, will he be the next to die?
Therefore, facing the questioning of Zhu Xian Sword Spirit, Wang Huozhuo seemed very flustered.

"I, what do I regret?"

Sun Dasheng said indifferently: "Do you dare to open your eyes and look at this world?"

"It's cold and freezing, rabbits are dead and dogs are cooking, people eat beasts, beasts eat people, people eat monsters and monsters eat people, and the boundary between people and monsters that doesn't exist is brought up again?"

"Sliding the world's great joke!"

"It's ridiculous, the border is in turmoil, but the dog emperor ordered to only defend and not attack."

"The plague of cholera and the heavy taxation, the princes above the temple turned a deaf ear to it."

"Corrupt officials are in power, Jin Yiwei..."

Wang's turbid face gradually became darker, holding the blade of the sword with both hands, trying to use force but not, obviously experiencing a huge struggle.

It's not that what Jian Ling said was wrong, but that it was too right.

Every word is heartbreaking!

"Do you regret it?"

"Everyone is their own master."

Wang Hunzhuo shook his head lightly, "Farewell."

With a bang, the Megatron Sword of Immortal Execution was completely shattered.

The fragments of the Zhuxian sword were like deep spikes, and ruthlessly pierced into the array arranged underground in Kyoto.

The blocked formation lost most of its effect in an instant. Although there was almost no change for ordinary people, Wang Huozhuo, a monk, clearly felt this change.

The flow speed of the spiritual energy has slowed down more than just a little bit.

What's even more frightening is that Wang Hunzhuo actually sensed subtle changes in the dragon spirit in Kyoto.

It's going to change?

He looked up at the towering Tianji Pavilion.

20 years ago, this building was the heart of the people in Kyoto; now, this building has become tasteless, and it seems that it has only been dedicated to that person.

Yes, where in this world is not his?

Wang Hunzhuo shook his head lightly, thinking to himself why he cared about all these things.

He lowered his head and looked at the scattered blades.

He won't touch it, and he hasn't entrusted it enough.

This is a fragment of the Immortal Execution Sword, and the killing intent contained in it can easily turn a seven-star monk into a waste.

After thinking about it, Wang Hunzhuo raised his hand and drew a circle on the ground, circling the fragments scattered on the ground.

That way no one else is hurt.

After doing this, Wang Huozhuo slowly made it to the ground while supporting his bleeding abdomen.

Looking at the fragments of the Zhuxian Sword, Wang Huozhuo sighed and shook his head slightly.

It turns out that this is your good intentions.

Wang Huozhuo looked into the distance, the rain curtain blocked most of his sight, except for the house in front of him, he couldn't see anything else.

Even though a fight just happened, the people in the house have been sleeping soundly.

It's just that such a capital city may not exist again in a short time.

The formation method endowed Kyoto with endless power, and what kept the formation method running was the dragon energy.

When the Zhuxian sword cut off the formation, it was equivalent to cutting off the dragon's veins in the capital.

Wang Huanzhuo brought a bowl of wine from nowhere, respected each other from a distance, and sprinkled it on the ground.

"It's really going to be messy."