Chapter 41 If You Can Carry Me Down
The last ray of sunlight disappeared.
It was as if eternal night had fallen.
And the long street of Beiluo fell into a strange silence...
It's as if time has stood still.
Nie Zhangqing did not draw his knife again. His slight breathing broke the silent atmosphere.
He took a step back and stood with a knife.
The four heroes of the Seven Sword Sect joined forces and cooperated well, with the sword sect's swordsmanship as their foundation.
The leader was the Seven-Sound Grandmaster who possessed the Five Swords. Together with the other three, Nie Zhangqing was at a disadvantage after just one fight.
If it weren't for the help of spiritual energy, which enhanced his strength and blood, Nie Zhangqing would have been pierced with several holes in his body within three moves.
"Sure enough, he is still too weak. With this kind of strength, how can he go south to break into Dao Sect?!"
Nie Zhangqing was panting, with strands of hair falling in front of his eyes, making him look a little melancholy.
Dao Zong, he didn't miss him.
but……
In Dao Sect, there is someone he cares about.
In front of Lu Fan.
Old Huang had a hunched back, his forehead and cheeks were trembling, and a bean-sized bead of sweat was emitting from his forehead.
He stared at the flying sword that was so close, almost touching his forehead, and the blood in his body almost became cold and silent.
If the flying sword hadn't been suppressed in the air by a strange force...
Maybe, at this moment, he is already dead! Yi Yue clenched the whip tightly, her foxy face was full of horror, her pink lips opened wide, showing the great shock in her heart.
Ni Yu was very excited, her pretty face flushed.
Luo Cheng, as well as Chen Beixun and others who were being escorted, were also stunned.
Especially Chen Beixun, this time, he saw...
Lu Fan rolled up his sleeves and placed a piece on the chessboard.
In an instant, the flying sword froze, and the four heroes of the sword sect knelt down, as if the whole world was silent!
What kind of method is this?
Chen Beixun's beautiful beard began to tremble violently. He was no longer as strong as ever, and despair appeared in his eyes.
He thought that Lu Fan's confidence came from Nie Zhangqing, a Taoist abandoned disciple whose strength was somewhat unpredictable...
It turns out he was wrong.
The mysterious one...is Lu Fan, not Nie Zhangqing!
Chen Beixun was somewhat dazed at this moment. No wonder Dao Zong's abandoned disciple would follow Lu Fan so wholeheartedly.
It turns out... everyone in the world has been deceived by Lu Fan!
This is a big lie! It's over, there is no hope.
Chen Beixun's legs went limp and he collapsed to the ground.
The atmosphere on the long street was solemn.
The flying swords froze in the air strangely. The four swordsmen's hats were blown to pieces and their hair was disheveled.
They all knelt on one knee, panting heavily, with beads of sweat rolling down their cheeks.
The heavy pressure made them terrified, yet they resisted stubbornly.
The leader, the Seven-Xiang Grandmaster who possessed the Five Swords, trembled slightly and slowly stood up as if he was trying to withstand the pressure.
In a wheelchair.
Lu Fan raised his eyebrows. These four people... are much stronger than that Han Lianxiao, the ninth of the Dao Sect.
The spiritual energy and pressure he released at this moment were almost the same as the one that had crushed Han Lianxiao.
However, Lu Fan didn't care.
The slender fingers reached down and picked up another black piece from the chess box on the armrest of the wheelchair.
One hand was rolled up, with the chess piece between the middle and index fingers.
A faint smile appeared on his rosy-lipped and white-toothed face as he looked at the four swordsmen from the sword sects who were kneeling on the ground, resisting the spiritual pressure.
"If you can carry me three times, I will bow down to you..."
"You can live."
Lu Fan said.
There was a laziness in the voices, lingering in the long street.
Then, he raised his wrist holding the chess piece high.
“Snap!”
The black piece falls on the chessboard.
boom……
The spiritual energy around Lu Fan was boiling again, spreading out in ripples in a violent manner.
The spiritual pressure suddenly increased fivefold! Clanging sound!
The flying sword that was originally suspended in the air seemed to be pulled hard and fell to the ground.
There were even a few flying swords made of inferior materials that were directly crushed and twisted.
Phew!
Except for the swordsman who had five swords in his sword box, the other three people all had blood spurting out of their mouths, unable to withstand the pressure of spiritual force.
They felt as if their internal organs were almost twisted and displaced.
They prostrated themselves on the ground, their faces tilted to the side, their cheeks slamming hard on the ground, and blood oozing from their mouths.
"What on earth is this?!"
The swordsman from the sword school who had five swords in his sword box had red eyes and was panting heavily. He looked past Nie Zhangqing and stared at Lu Fan, who was sitting in a wheelchair and looked as graceful as a jade.
"It's just a trivial skill of a cultivator."
Lu Fan's words had just fallen.
The swordsman suddenly fell to the ground with a "bang".
Lu Fan picked up the third black piece from the chess box, but he still failed to place it down.
“What a pity…”
Lu Fan shook his head slightly and sighed.
"Old Nie, clear the area."
A faint sound lingers.
Nie Zhangqing, who was carrying a knife, narrowed his eyes.
He raised the butcher knife in his hand, and spiritual energy flowed.
The sword-controlling technique is activated.
The butcher knife suddenly flew, drawing an arc in the air, scraping the necks of the four swordsmen lying on the ground, circling around, and flew back to Nie Zhangqing's hand. A drop of blood seeped out of the blade.
There is no mistake in the poem, post, content, and read the book on 6, 9, and bar!
The four swordsmen were lying on the ground, with blood gradually gathering into a puddle under their bodies.
Lu Fan's wheelchair automatically turned in a direction, with his back facing the four swordsmen whose auras had dissipated.
He rolled up his sleeves, slowly picked up two chess pieces from the board and threw them into the chess box.
"Xiao Ni, carry it on your back."
Ni Yu quickly put the chessboard on his back, straightened his chest, and stood up straight and energetic.
Yi Yue Hu Mei's face also returned to calm and she gently pushed the wheelchair.
The sound of wooden wheels and blue bricks rolling brought some life back to the dead silent Beiluo Street.
Chen Beixun's eyes were dull and his body was cold.
Liu Ye and Zhu Yishan had already collapsed to the ground.
“Young… Young Master!”
Luo Cheng, wearing blood-stained armor, swallowed.
"What about these people?"
Luo Cheng asked, referring to Chen Beixun and others.
Lu Fan was slowly pushed towards the Lu Mansion, supporting his chin with one hand and pinching his nose with the other, and spoke lightly.
"The crime of treason, what shall be done..."
Lu Fan's figure stretched out very long on the long street as the sun set in the west.
A light and floating voice came over.
Luo Cheng took a deep breath.
He bowed with his fists clasped towards the direction where Lu Fan's wheelchair disappeared.
“Yes.”
Then he stood up, took off his bloodstained helmet, and waved his hand.
"Behead him."
As soon as the words fell.
The iron-blooded soldiers who were escorting the prisoners from the three great families drew their weapons one after another.
This time…
It is a real blood-stained street.
Chen Beixun sat on the ground in a state of extreme embarrassment, his eyes fixed on Lu Fan's disappearing figure.
Just staring at...
Until... my neck felt a pain and the scene in front of me suddenly went dark.
…
Sitting in the wheelchair, Lu Fan closed his eyes and tried to regain his composure.
Although it seems quite easy to use the spiritual pressure chessboard to suppress the four masters, it is still a bit tricky. After all, making a move consumes the strength of the soul.
Pinching the bridge of his nose, Lu Fan prepared to go back and rest. Sleep can effectively restore the strength of his soul faster.
Of course, there’s more to it than that.
He has important things to do tonight.
This serious business is the business of the [Preaching Platform].
He had previously told Yuwen Xiu and Xiang Shaoyun that the preaching platform could be entered once every three days.
Tonight is the third day.
Needless to say, the preaching platform is very important to Lu Fan. If he wants to quickly improve his spiritual energy, in addition to exchanging soul strength attribute points, he can also use the preaching platform to train practitioners and increase their spiritual energy.
"Yiyue, Master, I am a little tired, let's go back home."
Thinking of this, Lu Fan did not linger any longer and said to Yi Yue who was pushing the wheelchair behind him.
“Yes.”
Itsuki responded and quickened his pace.
Hmm? Suddenly, Lu Fan, who had closed his eyes to rest, opened them slightly.
Yi Yue's movement of pushing the wheelchair also froze.
In the distance, at night, at the horizon of the long street.
The white dress is light and flowing.
A graceful figure, with the moonlight on her head, her long black hair spread out, she was extremely graceful and elegant, and was dragging a bruised and swollen figure in her hands.
Ning Zhao stood at the end of the long street.
I saw Lu Fan sitting in a wheelchair.
Suddenly, her eyebrows became like crescent moons and her smile was like peach blossoms.
PS: I keep writing chapters, please vote
(End of this chapter)