Inside the White Tiger Hall, the heat wave is rolling.
The air is filled with a disgusting burnt smell, which is the whine of the fine Nanmu Wood beams carbonizing under high temperature.
Lei Heng stood in front of the hall, surrounded by red light. He looked like an active volcano about to erupt. He looked down at the young man who was half kneeling on the ground and covered in blood. There was not much respect for a powerful enemy in his eyes, only the banter and cruelty of a cat playing with a mouse.
In his understanding, victory or defeat is decided by oneself.
Without the blessing of Divine Ability, Martial Artist is like a tiger with its teeth pulled out. There is no other way out but to be killed.
"You keep talking even when you are about to die."
Lei Heng lost his patience.
The dark red ball of light in Lei Heng's palm became more and more dazzling, and Fire Toxin rolled inside, making a sizzling sound. It was the embodiment of [Ember Vein Burning Emotion]Authority being aroused to the extreme. With just one click, the ignorant boy in front of him could be turned into a pool of pus and blood.
"In this world, without divine power, you can only be a wild dog lying on the ground." Lei Heng's voice was cold, with the arrogance of pronouncing fate, "When you are reincarnated in the next life, remember to highlight your tricks. There are some people you can't afford to offend."
The heat wave hit his face, burning Fang Mo's dry and cracked skin.
Just at this moment.
Fang Mo moved.
He didn't try to mobilize the sealed divine power, nor did he make any fancy evasive moves.
His Spinal Dragon flicked suddenly, making a crisp explosion.
[Blood Soul]The long knife, unsheathed.
The blade was three inches out of its sheath, and Sha Qi felt cold to the bone.
There is no superior god in this knife, and there is no mysterious and mysterious Law. It is just a piece of Mortal Iron, which was tempered into Fierce Weapon in the endless killing and blood.
Its only mission is to kill.
"Heaven Slash!"
Fang Mo drank violently.
This knife originated from the man named Fang Dashan ten years ago. On that rainy night when blood flowed into the river, that man used this Mortal Iron to smash the phantoms of gods and Buddhas in the sky.
Today, the son inherits the father's legacy.
The sword light did not burst into brilliant colors, nor did it make an earth-shattering roar.
It's too fast.
When it reaches its extreme, it becomes still.
It's so fast that it surpasses the capture of the retina, surpasses the reaction of the nerves, and even surpasses the thoughts of Lei Heng.
The blade cut through the air, and because the speed was too fast, a white shock wave visible to the naked eye appeared around the blade.
Pfft--!
A soft sound.
It's like a ripe watermelon being cut open with a sharp knife, or like a tight string being broken.
Lei Heng The palm containing the terrifying power of Half-step Meridian Opening, together with the wrist and forearm, all fell out of place at the moment when the white shock wave passed by.
The incision is as smooth as a mirror, and even the texture inside the bone is clearly visible.
Immediately afterwards, a blood line as thin as a gossamer appeared quietly on Lei Heng's thick neck.
The blood line is very thin and very thin.
It ignored Organ Refining Realm Peak Martial Artist's skin as hard as Wrought Iron, ignored the layer of Gang Qi that always protected the body, and easily cut off the trachea, cut off the carotid artery, and cut off the hardest cervical vertebrae.
Even, following the cause and effect Aura, this sword cut off the connection between the three arrogant Divine Temple phantoms and the physical body one after another behind Lei Heng.
Wow--!
Behind Lei Heng, the three phantoms of Divine Temple that originally stood tall and exuded overwhelming divine power collapsed like a mirror shattered by a heavy hammer.
The light scattered and splashed all over the sky, but dimmed and went out in mid-air.
Even the pitch-black projection of [Demon Suppressing Pagoda] trembled unwillingly twice, as if it wanted to bite back, but was first dispelled by the extremely pure murderous intent on Blood Soul Blade.
That extremely pure killing intent without any impurities first dissipated the projection of False God.
God is dead.
He was killed by Mortal Iron.
It was the ant that it looked down upon the most, and it chopped off the dust with the simplest knife.
"Hey... hey..."
Lei Heng tried to speak, but there was only a strange sound like a broken bellows leaking air from his throat. A large amount of blood foam poured out along the trachea, blocking his last words.
He wanted to raise his hands to cover his neck, but found that his hands were no longer where they were.
At the last moment when the all-powerful Lord Hundred Households lost consciousness, he finally saw the young man's eyes clearly.
That's not the way you look at a dead person.
That's the look in the butcher's eyes when he examines a piece of freshly chopped pork.
Calm, precise, and even a bit picky about the meat being too old.
It turns out... this is Heaven Slash...
Boom.
A big head slipped along the shoulder, hit the white stone floor hard, rolled twice, and stopped just beside the high threshold of the White Tiger Hall Rosewood.
The pair of unblinking eyes were wide open, facing the dark night sky outside the hall, as if questioning the sky.
The headless corpse shook for a moment, and the blood from the broken neck shot up three feet high like a fountain, dyeing the beams above it with a dazzling scarlet color. Then, the burly body fell heavily to the ground, making a dull loud noise.
The pool of blood spread quickly, soaking into the soles of Fang Mo's boots.