The girl was dumbfounded. Her body felt like it had been covered in superglue; she could only blink her eyes and couldn't do anything else.
A bluish-purple comet streaked across the sky in the darkness, swirling around Wen Jingge for a long time as if confirming something, before finally landing precisely in Wen Jingge's heart.
"That's true."
Wen Jingge smiled.
The girl cried.
Wen Jingge used the scales given to her by the Holy Light Rift Python, and she will become the ruler of this dark night.
The world turned black, white, and gray again, and Wen Jingge finally saw the snow on the ground clearly.
That wasn't snow at all, but rather red worms, somewhat like scarabs from Egyptian mythology. The swarm was wriggling on the ground, but fortunately, Wen Jinge had already been carried into the sky by the sword.
As for the girl, she was a pink, withered skeleton with deep eye sockets filled with insects.
Wen Jingge glanced at her empty hand. Aren't insects supposed to have no body temperature? How come it's warm?
"So, my lord likes my face this way. If you had said so earlier, I wouldn't have had to go to such lengths to please you." The girl was forced to reveal her soul, which floated out of the skeleton.
“I liked you just now, I could touch you.” Wen Jingge said coldly, “Are you a demon?”
Yes!
"Sealed here by someone?"
"It's so easy to talk to a smart man like you, my lord. You understand as soon as I speak."
"I am not your husband," Wen Jingge denied.
“If you don’t like me, just say so. Why tease me like this? You men…”
"I am not a man."
girl:……
"I've become a eunuch."
The girl's expression was quite a sight. She laughed in anger, "I, a dignified Holy Maiden of the Demon Clan, have been constantly toyed with by you, a eunuch!"
"No!" Wen Jingge took a step back, her expression still serious, and clutched her stomach: "It was congenital."
"You! You! You! You..." The Demon Saintess took a deep breath; she had never seen such a shameless lecher: "I, the Northern Demon..."
"Morphin!" Wen Jingge kindly reminded her from the side, seeing that she was still angry, and even hummed the rhythm: "Good morning... ring ring ring~"
"You, you, you!" Bei Moling pulled a tambourine from her back and shook it as she spoke, "Since you know my name! You brat! How dare you be so arrogant? Today, I'll teach you a lesson."
Wen Jingge was taken aback. Only a fool wouldn't be able to guess that, right?
The demons of this world reside in the desolate northern border, a vast expanse of ice and snow.
It's a demon, and it's holding a tambourine. What else could it be called but the Northern Demon Bell?
"No, no, no, I don't know." Wen Jingge touched the demonic sword in her hand, cleared her throat, and said thoughtfully, "What I mean is, you're not worthy of my knowledge, because of everyone here—"
Although the ground was a sea of insects, Wen Jingge felt several gazes fixed on her, making her uncomfortable: "You! And them, you're all trash!"
"Activate the formation!" Bei Moling shouted, and the insects scattered, condensing into four human-shaped cocoons in four directions, which grew larger and larger.
Wen Jingge kept an eye on that side, and also on the sword in her hand.
Swords have a spirit.
As the master's strength increases, the sword spirit's will also grows stronger.
The Demon Sword, however, is quite different. It carries a hint of evil and is more combative than an ordinary sword.
A good sword needs to be sharpened.
The reason why "Wen Jingge" placed it next to the Holy Light Rift Python was probably because the killing intent in the Formless Illusion was a good place to hone the sword!
"Has your owner given you a name?"
The cocoon below began to break apart, cracking into various fissures.
Crackling sounds
The demonic sword swayed, but Wen Jingge ignored it, still curiously watching Bei Moling's increasingly ferocious expression.
"To match this scene... calling me the Demon Harp would better suit my aesthetic." Wen Jingge spread out his five fingers, removed the bracelet he used to suppress his cultivation, and used his Xuan Qi to conjure a prosthetic limb. "Use the Demon Harp, call me the Harp Demon. Alright, now I am the legendary Six-Fingered Harp Demon."
The demonic sword hummed, its bluish-purple light flickering, and Wen Jingge had no choice but to look over in agreement.
She was dumbfounded.
The words "Demon Harp" are engraved on the sword, and the "Gouchen" sword placed on Wanzhang Peak is in the same position.
Clearly, this was a name chosen long ago.
Wen Jingge felt a moment of disorientation, and that strange feeling rose from the bottom of her heart again...
Bei Moling stood in the middle of the formation, her eyes suddenly changing. She suddenly felt that the unassuming person in front of her had a much stronger aura and a higher cultivation level.
Four cocoons burst open, one in each of the four cardinal directions.
To the east was a monk with a kind face and a dark complexion, chanting scriptures.
To the south was a Taoist priest, his robe filthy, his beard sparse and white, and he was holding a handful of lamp oil in his arms.
To the west, there was a drunkard, his clothes disheveled, his eyes bloodshot, gulping down wine from a jug.
To the north was a scholar, neatly dressed and handsome, holding a wooden fish in his hands, tapping it intermittently.
"East to west, south to north, wine-and-meat monks, down-on-their-luck Taoist priests." Wen Jingge laughed mockingly. "Anyone else? I've heard many voices; there must be more than just these!"
Bei Moling, who had been relentlessly angry, waved her hand and said, "This is enough for you to suffer!"
“Not enough!” Wen Jingge stretched out her index finger and waved her hand. This was not a provocation, but rather because her current abilities seemed to have returned to the state she was in when she fought Shan Hongxing.
At that time, her original intention was to lose, but she never thought that her body was like a bottomless pit, able to borrow the power of several miles around. If Shan Hongxing hadn't set up the formation as a lightning-attracting array, she really wouldn't have been able to stop.
At that time, she realized that there was something wrong with her body. She was killing someone of a higher level than herself. Normally, she would be exhausted for a long time after using a weapon of a higher level because her foundation was not strong enough.
The cultivation level of Wen Jingge in the past must have been terrifyingly high, because she only lay down for half a day, and although her cultivation level was still zero, she could move around freely like an ordinary person. But what made others think that she was only a third-grade cultivator who could surpass the second grade?
What is she hiding?
In some fantasy novels, the protagonist's lack of cultivation is compensated by a sword spirit that can appear in his mind. Perhaps, the "non-existent" sword spirit is that sword spirit.
Could the "non-existence" be something created by "Wen Jingge" to remind himself to accomplish something?
All spirits are susceptible to being devoured, especially in the presence of powerful demons and monsters, so "non-existence" has detached itself from its body.
“Benefactor! Turn back before it's too late. Amitabha.”
While waiting for them to unleash their ultimate attacks, Wen Jingge pondered her past. When interrupted, she became somewhat impatient: "So, Your Excellency has now fallen into demonic possession, is it because you have turned back?"
Monk: ...
"Fellow Daoist, wait a moment!"
"What are you trying to persuade me about?" Wen Jingge picked at her ear. Anyone can talk a good game!
"The Buddha is one foot tall, but the Tao is ten feet tall."
She blew on her sixth finger. "I understand."
"Fellow Daoist..."
"So it's because the devil is infinitely powerful."
Taoist priest: ...
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