If they were a little stronger, they would have a chance to fight Zirong, but the only thing they could rely on was their sword skills, which were totally inconsistent with their own cultivation. Facing a nemesis like Zirong, how could they have a chance to survive?
Looking at Zirong's pair of demonic eyes that had not yet fully returned to normal, even several old men in black robes felt frightened.
With his order, more than a dozen black-clad swordsmen rushed towards Zirong.
The exquisite sword style was swung out, forming a dense sword net, trapping Zirong in it.
Mu Hanyan, Hua Yue and others were all worried. Although Zirong had a pair of demon eyes that could see through the opponent's sword skills, her own strength was still too weak. She might not be able to bring the advantage of these demon eyes to the fullest. Facing the joint siege of more than a dozen black-clothed swordsmen of the Gui Yu clan, it would be impossible for them to be as relaxed as before.
Unfortunately, although the other party assigned more than a dozen people to deal with Zirong, the others still held Mu Hanyan and others tightly. Even if they wanted to help, they were out of reach.
Hua Yue's hand once again grasped the Demon-Breaking Spear, and she made up her mind that if Zirong was in danger, she would perform the blood sacrifice technique without hesitation and borrow the hidden power in the Demon-Breaking Spear again.
They obviously underestimated Zirong's enchanting eyes.
Two streams of blood mist flew out simultaneously, and a black-clad swordsman fell to the ground, dead. Even until his death, he was still tightly clutching the wound in his heart, but he could not stop the blood mist from gushing out and his life force from fading.
The other blood mist came from Zirong. Although she killed the ninth-level swordsman in front with one sword, it also left a deep scar on Zirong's shoulder that was visible to the bone.
Surrounded by enemies, even with the demon eyes, he could no longer be as relaxed as before.
However, he still maintained the same smile on his face, and walked towards Mu Hanyan step by step with firm steps.
Streams of blood spurted out from his body one after another, but his sword also stabbed out from all angles inconceivably, so ordinary, yet unstoppable.
If I have to describe his swordsmanship, there are only two words: accurate!
No matter how ordinary his swordsmanship may seem, or how slow his speed may seem, every sword strike can accurately find the opponent's most fatal weakness.
It was not until the sword pierced the opponent's heart without any hindrance that others realized that perhaps his swordsmanship could be much faster. The reason why he deliberately slowed down was just to seize the only flaw that appeared at that moment and give the opponent a fatal blow.
One by one, the black-clad swordsmen fell at his feet, and until their death, their faces were filled with resentment: Why, why was his swordsmanship so flawless, so slow that it seemed like dancing effortlessly, yet no one could dodge his swords?
It's a long story, but in reality, everything happened in a matter of moments. Although Zirong's sword wasn't fast, it was extremely efficient. With every thrust, a black-clad swordsman fell helplessly at his feet, forever losing his life.
Finally, after killing the last black-clad swordsman who had attempted to intercept her, Zirong arrived in front of Mu Hanyan. Jiang Yuzhe and Huayue grinned at Zirong. The feeling of killing one by one and finally reuniting smoothly filled their hearts with excitement and peace. Zirong smiled back at them and then looked at Mu Hanyan.
"Young Master, leave this to me." Zirong said calmly.
At this moment, her body was covered with bruises. Even though each wound was not fatal, the bloodstains all over her body were still frightening to look at.
However, his smile was still so calm, still with a hint of cynicism, which made people feel at ease.
The pupils, one black and one white, became even more weird.
Mu Hanyan nodded, suddenly jumped up and rushed towards the ancestral hall. The Hanxiao Sword in her hand also emitted thousands of rays of light, like the ancient divine sword that created the world in the legend.
Just as several black-clad swordsmen were about to take action to stop her, they saw Zirong thrusting her sword forward. They had only extended their swords halfway when they fell to the ground powerlessly and died.
"Stop him!" The expressions of several old men in black robes changed drastically, and they flew over to stop Mu Hanyan.
Ye Lanxuan would certainly not let them succeed. Taking advantage of their confusion, he swung his sword and killed an old man in a black robe.
Although the other two old men in black robes were so angry that their eyes were bloodshot, they dared not act rashly. They could only resist Ye Lanxun's attack while watching Mu Hanyan slash at the ancestral hall with a sword.
"Crack!" With a cracking sound, the ancestral hall, which was already very old and dilapidated, was broken in half by Mu Hanyan's sword and collapsed to both sides.
Under the powerful force of the sword, even the blue brick ground was blown away, revealing a long stone staircase.
My eyes moved along the stone steps to the bottom of the ancestral hall, and a dark brown altar came into view.
A man lay on the altar, surrounded by a variety of sacrificial vessels, all clearly crafted through alchemical techniques. The man, approximately twenty years old, dressed in a gorgeous robe, appeared to be in a deep sleep, his face ashen, like a dead man. However, a sarcastic smile lingered at the corner of his mouth, creating an indescribable eeriness.
"Where is Han Feng?" Mu Hanyan's gaze quickly shifted away from the man and looked around.
He quickly scanned the area, but Mu Hanyan wasn't in sight. Could it be that the Hanxiao Sword's sensing had gone awry, mistaking a sacrificial vessel on the altar for the Chixiao Sword? After all, no matter how psychic a divine sword might be, it was still a sword, not a person. It sensed things through its aura, not its eyes, so such an error wasn't surprising.
No matter what, Mu Hanyan breathed a sigh of relief when she didn't see her brother, and her heart, which had been hanging in the air, finally settled down.
But soon, Mu Hanyan's heart tightened again.
Surrounding the altar was a long row of cells filled with white bones. If she was not mistaken, they were all the remains of young girls. In a cell at the very edge, Mu Hanyan also saw several young girls who had just died. From their lifeless faces, one could even see the fear and despair of the last moment of their lives.
Boundless anger burned fiercely in Mu Hanyan's heart.
Although she still didn't know what evil method Gui Yu used to improve his sword skills, but when she saw the corpses of these girls, she could imagine that it must have come at the cost of their lives.
No wonder the Gui Yu clan doesn't need to take elixirs, sacrifice their lifespan, or even worry about leaving any hidden dangers, but can greatly enhance their combat effectiveness and display exquisite sword skills that far exceed their own cultivation. It turns out that it's not without cost, but at the cost of the lives of these girls.
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