Wuxia Super God Chat Group

"If that's the case, forget it."

"Continue to meet your battle."

Following the failure of another surrender, Xiongcheng fell into another bloody battle under the darkness of night.

The ink-colored soldiers kept rushing towards Song Qingshu.

But it couldn't cause even the slightest obstacle to Song Qingshu's progress.

The iron gun flew from the sky, and the iron gun broke.

The flying sword flashed across the sky like lightning, and the flying sword shattered.

The bow and the string were cut together, and there was a soft sound like the clank of the strings.

Song Qingshu continued to walk towards the black attic.

People kept falling before his purple blood soft sword.

It's just that the speed at which the soldiers turned into ink and fell was much slower than before.

Song Qingshu's footsteps also became heavier and heavier, just like his dignified expression.

Mo Xiejia looked at Song Qingshu fighting among the soldiers, and gently wiped a slight arc in his mouth.

Mo Xiejia had indeed absorbed all the vitality in his body.

And his realm has stabilized at the realm of the sixth level of the Nascent Soul, the strongest realm in this world!

Now his silence and refraining from making a move are only because Mo Xiejia is looking for an opportunity.

And he was sure the opportunity would present itself.

During these days of Mo Xiejia's retreat, he collected almost all the information about Song Qingshu secretly.

Among them is the secret geometry that Song Qingshu has mastered.

When Song Qingshu made a move, did his purple blood soft sword like to slash horizontally or diagonally.

Song Qingshu likes to arrange when the Hell Terrace, a life-killing weapon, will enter the arena.

Mo Xiejia understood all of this thoroughly, without any trace of concealment.

That's why Mo Xiejia was able to fly away from Song Qingshu's Hell Tower.

And he didn't have to go downstairs, so Song Qingshu was extremely embarrassed.

It can be said.

Now he and Song Qingshu know each other too well.

Knowing that the methods of conspiracy and tricks have lost too much meaning.

Song Qingshu's realm, cultivation and skills are all exposed under the sky and sunlight.

So Mo Xiejia's arrangement for Song Qingshu can only be Ming's, and everything can be calculated.

A few words of his own made Song Qingshu consume his own spiritual power, making his power no longer.

And under the continuous attack of hundreds of thousands of ink soldiers who are not afraid of life and death.

No matter how powerful Ning Que's mental power is, it will inevitably be gradually consumed.

No matter how cautious Song Qingshu is, he will eventually reveal loopholes.

The faint moonlight from the occasional cracks in the clouds hit Mo Xiejia's face.

The quiet moonlight brought some traces of light to Moxie Ghana's elegant face.

Embellished by light traces, Mo Xiejia Wenya's face suddenly became a little inexplicably hideous.

He watched the battle scene in Xiongcheng quietly and intently.

Watching Song Qingshu break through a wall, cut down a person and walked towards him.

Now Song Qingshu's movement of swinging the sword is still so stable, raising the sword, cutting the sword, there is no other small movements between the movements.

His footsteps are also so steady, every step seems to have been precisely measured, no more than an inch, no less than a point.

All of this is so stable, with a natural feeling like flowing clouds and flowing water, but... all of this is too stable.

Song Qingshu slashed with his horizontal sword, the wind of the sword pierced through the air, and there was a scream.

Immediately, he stepped up and broke through the black majestic walls, nothing could stop him.

The rhythm between swinging the sword and stepping was unimaginably precise.

However, it is precisely this absolutely precise rhythm that gives birth to a slightly blunt feeling.

"Song Qingshu, you are very dangerous."

Mo Xiejia looked at Song Qingshu with a blunt sense of precision, and smiled with satisfaction.

Immediately, Mo Xiejia stood upright in the night wind.

Chapter 403 Why Don't You Die

Stand up straight.

It means that Mo Xiejia began to have some ideas about Song Qingshu.

Under the moonlit night, the breeze does not stop.

The sound of metal explosions echoed far away in the originally quiet night.

Extremely mighty.

Little sparks were born and died on the edge of the purple blood soft sword in Song Qingshu's hands.

Gorgeous.

Song Qingshu, who broke through the wall with a sword, looked extraordinarily powerful under the embellishment of sparks and the blowing of the breeze.

The bloody clothes fluttered like a Shura evil ghost crawling out of the Nine Layers of Purgatory.

Song Qingshu like this naturally looks extremely powerful.

Moreover, his fighting intent was strong, and his murderous intent soared straight to the sky, which vaguely implied that he was invincible.

It seemed a little unwise for Mo Xiejia to make a move at this time.

Anyway.

Moxiejia should also die after hundreds of soldiers died.

It was only when Song Qingshu relaxed that moment that he launched a killer move.

Now that Song Qingshu is in the middle of a bloody battle, no matter who thinks about it, taking action at this time will not be the best way.

Even a little stupid.

But nonetheless.

Mo Xiejia still stood upright, the hem of his clothes fluttered in the wind, and the expression in his eyes became more and more excited.

seem.

It only takes another moment for Song Qingshu's head to be picked off by himself.

However, the hem of the clothes fluttered for a long time, but Mo Xiejia's body still did not disappear on the black attic.

seem.

He was still looking for an opportunity, an opportunity to kill Song Qingshu with one blow.

Mo Xiejia didn't know when this opportunity would come, but Mo Xiejia knew it would definitely come.

This is a kind of self-confidence.

A winning belief.

At the beginning of this battle.

When Song Qingshu swung his sword through the wind and smashed through the black walls.

He once showed a feeling of flowing freely.

Just in the next constant battle.

The sense of freedom of flowing clouds and flowing water has been unknowingly worn away by the blood and stumps.

So Song Qingshu can only rely on precision to control the entire battle situation.

Relying on the experience he accumulated from countless swings to control every sword he swung.

Wanting to control, knowing that he should control, it means that he is almost out of control.

It means that the sense of mechanical precision has begun to dull.

Today's Song Qingshu has really started to hold on.

Song Qingshu swung a land-shattering slash and chopped a soldier holding an iron shield into blood foam.

When the knife was cut, Song Qingshu raised his right foot, but it had not yet landed on the bluestone slab.

He looked around, observing where the nearest attack came from.

When you want to do these things.

Song Qingshu was also thinking about how to swing his next sword.

I was also thinking about how far away I was from Moxiejia.

Thinking about preserving his strength, he gave Mo Xiejia the most fatal blow.

I shouldn't have thought so much when fighting.

But Song Qingshu is already struggling at this time, how can he take so much into account?

So Song Qingshu was inevitably a little slack.

then.

The opportunity that Moxiejia had been waiting for finally came.