i have a sword fairy

Holding the scabbard, he continued to walk within the blood circle.

Walking and walking, turning around from time to time.

The end of the scabbard dragged on the ground, and the blood dripped all the way to the floor.

Zhao Rong's movements were slow and orderly.

As if in no rush.

This time, he no longer used the bloody scabbard to draw a simple circle, but...

Following the path of his footsteps, the dark red blood gradually outlined a strange pattern on the cold, black floor.

Gui looked at the pattern on the ground that seemed harmonious and beautiful at first glance, but became more and more mysterious and weird as he looked at it, he condensed his voice.

"This is……"

"Six-pointed star."

After the one-armed Confucian scholar finished drawing the last stroke of the hexagram, he stopped and answered calmly in his heart.

Gui: "...???"

I understand every word you said, but what the heck is it connected together!

Zhao Rong saw the self-doubt and confusion that Sword Spirit fell into, but he didn't explain it.

Of course it doesn't know this thing, even if it is an unknown power that can travel outside the world before its fall.

But this hexagram pattern belongs to the world of Zhao Rong's previous life, and it should have never appeared in this world. It's normal that it doesn't know it.

The one-armed Confucian scholar chuckled inwardly.

At this moment, in the main hall of the magnificent underground palace, if you look down from the dome, you will see such a picture:

With the central dragon coffin as the center, a mysterious blood-colored hexagram 'blooms' in all directions.

A blood circle connected the six corners of the hexagram, completely surrounding it and the dragon coffin.

In the southeast corner of the main hall, a white candle was burning silently, and the flame was beating.

Once again bluffed by the strange thing that the sword master took out, the purple-clothed sword spirit who had always been a senior of Yu Yu was suddenly upset, and said arrogantly with his chest in his arms:

"What are you laughing at? What hexagrams... It's like drawing a ghostly talisman. Hey, let's go, let's go open the coffin. Why waste time drawing this thing?"

Dragging the scabbard, the one-armed scholar calmly walked into the blood-colored hexagram, came to the side of the dragon coffin, jumped lightly, and sat on the dragon coffin.

Drawing weird blood circles, drawing mysterious hexagrams, and putting on eerie 'ghost blowing lights'... Of course, these are not for sword spirits.

At this moment, the main hall of the underground palace.

His white clothes were soaked in blood, and he sat alone in the dragon coffin, with the scabbard on his knees, and said softly, "He has come."

"What he..." Sword Spirit stopped suddenly after speaking halfway...

"What are you drawing?"

In the long and dark tomb passage that the one-armed Confucian scholar faced calmly, an old and hoarse voice suddenly came out.

A disfigured old Confucian scholar walked out slowly from the darkness where he had been standing for a long time.

Ask with a chuckle.

Chapter 533 The autumn air is rustling today, it is appropriate to kill people ([-])

"What are you drawing?"

Someone was as confused and curious as the purple clothed sword spirit.

The young Confucian scholar is sitting on the dragon coffin, holding the scabbard in one arm, and laying it horizontally on his knee.

"Draw it casually, don't worry about it."

Zhao Rong said very seriously to the disfigured old Confucian scholar who walked out of the dark tomb.

The eyes also looked at the latter very seriously.

He doesn't look sideways.

"You...are you not escaping?"

Zhao Rong was silent.

At this time, it was less than half an hour away from the bamboo forest courtyard.

The one-armed young Confucian scholar and the disfigured old Confucian scholar faced each other again.

It's just that this time, it was changed to a place that seemed more suitable for death, and the former also had a broken arm and lost a sword.

But the latter is still holding a cigarette bag in his hand, taking a walk in the courtyard.

Nothing seems to have changed.

Right now, there are only the two Confucian scholars in the Dead Silence Hall, and there is no one else involved.

The old and the young looked at each other silently.

One person stood at the door of the tomb passage, blocking the only way to leave.

One holds an empty scabbard and sits quietly on the dragon coffin in the center of the hall.

At this time.

"Is there no way inside?"

The disfigured old Confucian scholar asked calmly, "Well, I still thought of some way to deal with this old man."

He nodded lightly.

The young Confucian scholar still did not answer.

He looked at the disfigured old Confucian scholar silently.

At the same time, the lonely hand on his knee slightly lifted the scabbard in front of his lower abdomen.

In front of the disfigured old Confucian scholar, he gently shook the end of the sheath.

Immediately, a large drop of bright red blood that was about to fall was shaken off.

tick tock...tick tock...

The sound of a series of blood drops hitting the coffin board suddenly resounded in the underground palace hall.

Echoed again and again.

The sound of blood dripping seems to be getting louder...

The air in the hall suddenly became surprisingly quiet.

Zhao Rong looked directly at Qin Jianfu, with the scabbard in his hand between the two of them, his wrist trembling slightly.

Qin Jianfu looked at the haggard scholar's dark eyes, seeing that he was still silent, the old man lowered his eyes first, glanced at the empty scabbard in Zhao Rong's hand, and his strange movements.

The original body of Wenjian that Zhao Rong suddenly sent away has disappeared.

The old man squinted again, and quickly glanced at the solitary white candle in the southeast corner of the hall.

It flickers.

Like a flat boat in a storm on the sea.

Then, the old man looked at the weird blood painting patterns on the ground in front of him, the leaky dragon coffin with a corner soaked in dark red blood, the tomb passage of the apse with dozens of qi coming from it... and so on.

Holding a gray pipe in his palm, the disfigured old Confucian scholar used both his spiritual sense and his naked eyes, and quickly scanned the entire underground palace hall.

Zhao Rong quietly watched the calm and vigilant old man, his left hand remained motionless.

The blood flowing with the blood of the Black Bird of Destiny overflowed the inscriptions of the Black Bird of Destiny on the scabbard, gathered at the end of the scabbard, and dripped naturally.

He deviated from the path of most of the Zhao family's children and followed Confucianism in writing. At this time, he lost his right hand for writing.

The only remaining left hand tightly grasped the only remaining scabbard, facing the enemy whose aura was higher than the third realm.

not moving at all.

"Heh, it's quite lively inside."

At this time, the disfigured old Confucian scholar suddenly opened his mouth, and his eyes were also withdrawn from behind Zhao Rong's shoulder.

Raising his hand, he pointed at the apse tomb passage blocked by Zhao Rong's body, with a calm tone:

"You seem to be quite familiar with the layout of the emperor's tomb, so...they have something to do with you? Are they your rescuers? Or..."

The young Confucian scholar narrowed his eyes slightly, thought for a while, and interrupted:

"Can you move faster and stop talking nonsense."

Serious tone.

The disfigured old Confucian scholar paused for a while, and his cloudy old eyes narrowed into slits.

He stared at this young Confucian scholar with a calm face and a slightly joking tone, and nodded vigorously, "Okay, I'll leave it to you to collect the corpse, and hope they can identify it and put it together."

After identifying the corpse, it is possible to piece together a similar whole corpse.

The young Confucian scholar who had been calm until now finally smiled, very pleased.

He patted the dragon coffin under him with his scabbard, with a sincere expression:

"Please be sure to step up your efforts. It was too boring to be outside just now, it's the same as not eating."

"it is good."

As soon as the young Confucian scholar finished speaking, the disfigured old Confucian scholar nodded lightly, and just after he uttered the word, suddenly there were loud bangs from all directions.

The whole main hall trembled a few times.

It turned out that the eight tomb passages leading from the main hall to other parts of the underground palace had all collapsed and were blocked by the collapsed boulders.

This includes the tomb passage where the disfigured old Confucian scholar came, and the tomb passage leading to the deep apse behind Zhao Rong.

The entire hall temporarily became a place of death...

There is almost no way out.

After finishing these casually, Qin Jianfu did not lift his wrinkled eyelids.

With a gray cigarette bag in one hand and the back in the other, he walked straight forward, walking slowly, while carefully watching the face of the young scholar in front of him with narrowed eyes.

The exit path of these buried concubines was blocked, Zhao Rong didn't look back, nor did his expression change.

He had restrained his smile, and looked at Qin Jianfu who was slowly approaching.

Face as usual.

The distance between the two Confucian scholars is only ten feet.

The old Confucian scholar, who could have flashed to the young Confucian scholar's side in an instant and took off his beautiful head, walked forward while hanging, walking slowly.

Just like when he was still the prime minister of the great Wei Dynasty before being seriously injured by someone's bereavement, he walked towards the Golden Temple early in the morning.

The old man gradually approached the bloody circle in the center of the hall.

As if being reminded of painful memories again, the disfigured old Confucian scholar's face turned red, and he stared and gritted his teeth, very frightening, like a prehistoric beast that lost its cub.

He stopped walking slowly, strode forward, stretched out a dry hand towards Zhao Rong.

It seems that in the next second, he will ignore the step forward and directly twist the head of the calm young Confucian scholar on the dragon coffin.

Zhao Rong remained motionless.

Holding one-third of the scabbard in his hand, he gently patted the lid of the dragon coffin below him with one end of the scabbard.

He quietly looked at Qin Jianfu who was oppressed.

In the heart lake, the purple-clothed sword spirit, who roughly guessed the sword master's intention, saw that the old beast outside ignored the bluffing tricks on the ground and was about to break into the blood-colored circle.

At the same time, a sense of powerlessness was born, thinking back then, for a small Golden Core Realm, a single hair could kill it, but now...

The moment Jian Ling sighed and closed his eyes, the murderous old Confucian figure stopped suddenly.

Paused.

Like a nail, it was firmly nailed to the edge of the blood circle by the hammer!

His toes were only a centimeter away from the bloodstains that were drawn crookedly by someone.