"Grandfather...you are going to recite a poem!"

On the flying sword, Su Qinian looked at the terrifying sword intent rising from the horizon with a solemn expression.

Zhou Xuanzi was stunned for a moment and asked in confusion, "Why do you say that, Lord Su?"

"The ancestor's sword must recite poetry, and reciting poetry must kill people." Su Qinian muttered to himself, "This time it's going to be a big one!"

"Oh!" Zhou Xuanzi closed his fan, clapped his hands and laughed, "Then if we block the senior's mouth before he uses the sword, so that he can't recite the poem, then the sword won't work?"

Su Qinian glanced at Zhou Xuanzi and said, "Then... you go and try it?"

“…I don’t dare.”

…

Above the sky.

As the last drop of spirit wine went down his throat, it dripped down his jaw.

In mid-air, he was unexpectedly cut into alcohol by the invisible sword energy.

Huh——!

The scabbard creaked suddenly.

The sword has not yet been wielded, but its sword power has become great!

The thousand-mile sea of ​​clouds instantly evaporated into frosty white hail, and the black robe became a circular vacuum zone that collapsed in the heart.

Chen Huai'an was drunk, his eyes narrowed slightly, and he laughed loudly: "Taibai's pursuit of the moon has made him a fool--" With a flick of his sleeve, the wine gourd suddenly exploded, and the remaining wine beads scattered all over the sky, reflecting the figure of the crazy man with a sword. The figure staggered and chanted again: "Why not... chop Lingxiao into pieces and try his madness!"

The black scale sheath, the sword is intended to soar into the sky.

Everyone looked up, and saw a tear in the void behind the man in black robes.

A sword-cultivating figure rose up into the sky.

That Dharma image stands on the sea of ​​clouds with the blue sky overhead, his body like a sword spine emitting sword light. Sometimes he sits on the clouds holding the sword in meditation, and sometimes he drunkenly leans against the moon and sings a long song.

Suddenly, he saw him writing in the air with both fingers. For a moment, the sky was shaking. The ink-splashed cursive script pierced the sky and turned the vast sky into snow waves rolling on the rice paper.

Chen Huai'an shook his wrist and a few cold stars appeared. The tip of the sword moved like a dragon, tearing through the cloud curtain and hooking up a half-moon.

The suspended ink waterfall suddenly dropped down, and a lone ink broke through the heavy clouds. The moment it fell to the human world, it suddenly condensed into a sharp edge - the ink color entered the sword bone, and the black frost condensed the sword edge. The thousand-foot ink-colored sword light was actually the sword intent tempered from the poetry all over the sky.

There was laughter: "This sword makes me happy! How wonderful! How wonderful!!"

The Buddha's magic figure found that he could finally move.

But what came towards him was the sky-shattering and earth-destroying black sword.

“Come on!” The Buddha’s magic minister’s left eye was adorned with golden lotus, his right pupil was surging with hellfire, and his two white jade hands formed the Sumeru Dharma Seal and swung it at the giant sword. One of the Dharma Seals was hell, and the other was the Buddhaland. The Sanskrit sounds and magic roars intertwined, dizzying the gods watching the battle all around.

"Wulian Tianzun, retreat quickly! A fight between these powerful men is not something we can just watch from the sidelines."

Su Qinian's face turned pale when he saw the powerful pair.

Although he knew this was a good opportunity to follow the ancestor to comprehend the way of swordsmanship, he still quickly retreated to a safe distance for the sake of his own life.

Boom——!

The ink sword collided with the seal, the sky cracked, and the earth veins collapsed.

The vast Gobi desert that stretched for thousands of miles across the country was instantly shattered into a pile of ruins.

"Young man, if this is all you have to say, you can't let me take the blame for your actions."

After receiving the sword, the Buddha's magic image was not as solid as before. It turned out that the cracks on the white jade arm had spread to the chest. But she felt that this sword was also the limit of sword cultivation. She still had some strength left, but did the sword cultivator still have some strength left?

"With this sword, I am so excited that I can write down the Five Mountains!" Chen Huai'an raised his sword and chanted again.

Wherever the sword passes, a streak of ink splashes across the sky. When the poet is in high spirits, he writes down the Five Mountains. When the poem is finished, he smiles proudly and soars over Cangzhou Island.

The Dharma image behind him suddenly raised his wrist, and the powerful pen tip split the thousands of clouds in the air.

The two characters "兴涵" (Xing Han) have sword-like edges, while the character "凌滄洲" (Ling Cangzhou) has surging ink marks.

When the last stroke of the pen was written, the entire dome collapsed suddenly.

The ink mark that spanned heaven and earth turned into a sword!

The sword falls.

The world is silent and all colors have faded.

The Buddhist and magical figures stared at Yunfeng's celestial figure in astonishment, as if they were madmen.

In the waning moon, Chen Huai'an put away his sword, shook his head and sighed.

"There are seven swords in the Twelve Sword Styles, and you have only used two swords... You will not be able to bear the karma of the Lord."

As soon as he finished speaking, a sword mark appeared between the eyebrows of the Dharma image.

When the wind blew, the Dharma body was shattered and scattered into karmic fire all over the sky.

…

Thousands of miles away, in a towering mountain range, a temple collapsed.

The grey-robed old nun entered into meditation and her body shook violently. Her face turned pale and a pool of blood spurted out.

"Ahem... you are so strong in kendo."

She didn't even bother to wipe the blood off her lips. She immediately crossed her knees, closed her eyes, and adjusted her breathing. It took her a while to recover.

Although she is a fusion of the incarnation and the Jidong method, it is also a part of her source energy.

And that swordsman almost tore her energy into pieces with just two strikes.

The sword intent extended with her and rolled back in large quantities, like a maggot attached to the bone.

If her cultivation level had not been at the highest level of the Void Realm, it would have been impossible for her to resolve it so easily. If someone with a combined cultivation level had been here, the instant the energy of the Spiritual Transformation returned, their body would have been chopped into nothingness by the sword's intent.

"When did such a powerful swordsman appear in the Cangyun Realm? Is he really an old monster from the Sword Pavilion who is hiding his identity?"

The old nun in grey robe had a gloomy face, and her eyes were uncertain.

But since he is an old monster, he should know what crisis the Cangyun Realm is currently facing.

When I just talked to him, it was obvious that he knew nothing.

Moreover, the ancestor of Jian Pavilion named Chen in his memory is no longer in this world, and the sword methods of the two are completely different.

It's impossible that a super swordsman would suddenly be born during her retreat, right?

"Is it a variable? Or is someone disguising himself to deliberately wink at me?"

The old nun in grey robe talked to herself, her brows full of hostility.

"My lord, please save me. My lord, I don't want to die..."

Ji Dong's remaining soul appeared in front of him. He followed the gray-robed old nun's incarnation back as if he was holding on to a life-saving straw, but even his remaining soul was pierced by countless sword qi. If he did not rescue him, it would obviously be close to disappearing.

"Save you?!" The old nun in gray robe grabbed the remnant soul with her fingers and laughed: "You are just an ant practicing magic, and you still want me to protect you? In fact, old Nigan didn't help you hide the secret. When the Hundred Thousand Great Wo came, your fate should have ended."

"What? This is impossible..."

"You lied! You lied!"

Ji Dong's remaining soul had a hideous expression, and it was unclear whether he was angry or was tortured by the sword to the point of being worse off than death.

"You will not die well! Ling Pu Lao Ni, you will not die well!"

Ling Pu sneered without saying anything, but closed his fingers and crushed Ji Dong's remaining soul.

The young master of the Heavenly Demon Sect, who inherited the Heavenly Demon Sect's skills, did not die under the sword of the swordsman, but died in her palm.

"Since there are variables, in order to ensure that the secrets of the Thousand Continents are safe, I will use a tool to conceal the secrets." The gray-robed old nun stood up, and a golden lotus platform appeared under her feet. Her figure gradually disappeared, leaving only muttered words: "The way of heaven is flawed... The way of heaven is flawed..."

…

…