Another five hundred miles.
The earth under his feet was not just dirt, but a piece of tortoise shell that had been beaten repeatedly and baked until it dried out and cracked.
When the wheels run over the fine stones, the sound they make is no longer a buzzing sound, but a tooth-piercing scream, like the last bit of phlegm rolling in the throat of a dying person.
The eight horses owned by Flood Dragon Bloodline, Qilin Horse, no longer look like a god at all.
Most of the fine scales on their bodies fell off, revealing the bright red muscles underneath. The sweat had long since dried up, and what was seeping out of their pores was thin blood.
Every time the horse's hoof hits the ground, it will bring up a cloud of dark red mud, which is then blown away by the strong wind that doesn't stop at that moment.
This is not a journey, but a life-threatening journey to cover this distance.
"Collapse."
A cracking sound that was not loud, but was dull enough to stop the heart came from underneath the car.
The carriage, which was still racing wildly, suddenly sank, and the huge inertia caused the heavy carriage to tilt violently to the right.
The axle known as Thousand Year Undecay, which was made by Western Desert Red Gold, failed to withstand the heavy running and pressure at all costs for three consecutive days and three nights, and completely broke from the middle.
The wheel flew out, bounced and rolled away on Gobi Desert, and finally crashed into a piece of weathered rock.
The eight Qilin Horses let out a shrill scream and were dragged to the ground by the reins. Their huge bodies slid dozens of feet on the gravelly ground, leaving behind a shocking Blood Road.
They struggled to stand up, but a large ball of white foam with broken internal organs erupted from their mouths and noses. Then their necks tilted, and the light in those huge horse eyes quickly disappeared.
Apart from the sound of wind, the only sound left in the world was the creaking of the wooden boards of the carriage, like the sound of a coffin lid being blown by the wind.
Old Yan jumped off the tilted Chariot Shaft.
He staggered when he landed, and his right leg, which usually always pretended to be lame, was really not working properly at this moment.
He didn't look at the dead horses. He just squatted down and touched the broken axle with his hand that was full of calluses and the smell of tobacco oil.
The cross-section is rough, and the inside of the metal shows a strange gray color. It is because the pressure of the strong Dharma Aspect Realm has shattered the inner structure.
"It's hopeless."
Old Yan muttered in a low voice.
There was not much panic on his old face, which was as dry as dried orange peels. Even the flattering fake smile that he always wore had disappeared, leaving only a kind of numbness and coldness that had been in a dark prison for many years and was used to seeing life and death.
He slowly took off the polished dry pipe from his waist.
The wind was so strong that it took several blows for the fire to ignite.
He put the cigarette holder into his mouth and took a deep breath.
Sparks flickered in Pipe Bowl, and the pungent smell of dry smoke penetrated into the lungs along the throat, rushing inside, suppressing the rusty smell that surged up from the throat.
"Ahem..."
Old Yan coughed twice and spit out a cloud of blue-white smoke. The smoke was instantly torn apart by the wind.
"Commander Li."
Old Yan didn't look back. He cast his gaze towards the dim and turbid sky of West. His voice was hoarse as if two pieces of sandpaper were rubbing against each other, "The car is broken and the horse is dead. The rest of the way has to be walked on foot."
The slightly deformed door of the carriage was pushed open with a loud sound.
Li Mingyue drilled out.
Her Flying Fish Robe, which originally symbolized the majesty of Demon Suppression Division, was already in tatters and covered with black and red blood scabs and yellow sand.
She held the jade pendant that was still warm in her hand tightly, her knuckles turning blue and white from excessive exertion.
She looked at the mess in front of her, at the dead Qilin Horse, and finally her eyes fell on the rickety figure squatting on the roadside smoking a cigarette.
"Uncle Yan, how far is it?" Li Mingyue's voice was a little wavy.
"It's far away." Old Yan took a puff of cigarette, "There are still eight hundred miles away from the nearest Post Station, and three thousand miles away from Divine Capital. With two legs, even a strong man will have to walk for half a month."
"Half a month..." Li Mingyue laughed sadly.
Not to mention half a month, even half an hour is still a luxury for them now.
Old Yan stood up. He knocked ashes on the soles of his shoes and moved slowly, as if he was not running for his life, but basking in the sun on the steps of Heavenly Prison's door.
"I'll leave this silly cow to you."
Old Yan pointed at the tilted car, "He is thick-skinned and thick-skinned. Although he looks miserable, he won't die for a while. You take him and go south to Black Mountain. The terrain there is complicated, and that Old Bald Donkey doesn't dare to enter easily."
"What about you?" Li Mingyue raised his head suddenly.
"Me?" Old Yan refilled a bag of tobacco, stuffed it, and flattened it. "I am the jailer of Heavenly Prison. All my life I have been serving people. I serve the prisoners on their way in the prison, and when they leave the prison, I serve them on their own way. The scene today is quite big, worthy of my old bones."
He spoke in an understatement, as casually as if he was talking about what to have for dinner.
"No!" Li Mingyue took a step forward, "Fang Mo handed you over to me, and I have to take you back! You are his family, he..."
"Lord Fang has no shortage of my old dog."
Old Yan interrupted her, with a hint of severity in her tone for the first time.
He turned around and walked straight to the roadside without looking at Li Mingyue.
There are several huge pieces of weathered rock scattered there, each weighing hundreds of kilograms.
Old Yan put the cigarette on his waist and bent down. A few twisted veins like earthworms appeared on his skinny arms.
He growled low, picked up a huge boulder, moved it step by step to the center of the official road, and put it down heavily.
Bang.
The dust is flying.
He walked back and picked up the second and third pieces.
In a short time, a simple, rough, and even ridiculous stone wall stretched across the wide official road.
It is neither high nor thick. Not to mention blocking the power of the Dharma Aspect Realm, even a frightened wild horse can easily jump over it.
But this wall is a boundary monument.
Old Yan sat down behind the stone wall, leaning against the cold rock. He took out the Boning Knife that he usually used to pick teeth, cut meat, and occasionally used to scare new prisoners, and stuck it in the soil at his feet.
The blade of the blade is not long, only seven inches. It is completely black and does not have any fancy lines. There is only a palpitating pale color on the blade.
"Let's go."
Old Yan relit the pipe, and amid the smoke, his eyes became cloudy and deep, "Don't let Lord Fang's hard work go in vain. Take the silly cow with you. When Lord Fang wants to chop people in the future, this silly boy will have to help carry the knife. My knife is too short and too blunt. It is only suitable for removing bones and cannot chop people."
Li Mingyue stood on the same spot, his feet seemed to be rooted.
In her whole life, she was used to the intrigues in Demon Suppression Division, and the so-called justice collapsed in the face of interests. She never thought that at this critical moment of life and death, the one who would stand up would be such a greasy old jailer who usually seemed greedy for money, fearful of trouble, and full of talk.
"Uncle Yan..." Li Mingyue's eyes are sore
Just when she was about to grit her teeth and turn around to carry the heavy body, a thick and somewhat deformed hand suddenly pressed against the wall of the carriage.
"Roar."
A low, beast-like roar came from the carriage.
The already shaky car door was completely pushed open, and a figure like an iron tower staggered down.
Iron Bull woke up.
His naked upper body was covered with dense cracks, which were caused by the aftermath of Old Ancestor Kongji shattering the surface of the skin. There was an obvious collapse in the center of the chest, and one could even vaguely see the beating organs and broken bones underneath.
Every step he takes will leave a blood mark under his feet.
But he didn't fall.
The iconic pair of Ox Eyes were covered with bloodshot eyes and frighteningly red, but revealed a chilling clarity and stubbornness.
He pushed away Li Mingyue who wanted to help him. Although his action was rough, it did not hurt her at all.
Dragging his almost useless left leg, he walked step by step to the stone wall, walked to Old Yan, and then sat down.
The ground shook.
"Roar." Iron Bull pointed to the cigarette pouch in Old Yan's mouth, and then pointed to his own mouth. That was his only hobby in his life besides eating and blacksmithing.
Old Yan was stunned for a moment.
He looked at the stupid big man next to him who was covered in blood and was almost a disabled person. A trace of astonishment flashed in his cloudy old eyes, and then turned into a smile that stretched out all the wrinkles on his face.
"You idiot."
Old Yan laughed and cursed, and handed the pipe over, "What? Now you don't mind the old man's saliva?"
Iron Bull took the pipe and took a deep puff without feeling it was too hot.
"Ahem!"
He had never smoked such a strong dry cigarette. He choked and even shed tears. It affected the injury on his chest and grinned in pain. However, he did not return the cigarette, but held it in his hand like a child protecting food.
One old and one young.
One is thin and the other is strong.
The two handymen who were usually the most inconspicuous in the Punishment Department and were even viewed as a joke were now sitting side by side behind that ridiculous stone wall, facing the darkness of West that was about to engulf everything.
Li Mingyue Looking at this scene, she understood that anything she said would be redundant.
This is a man's decision and a jailer's rule.
"Take care."
Li Mingyue bowed deeply to the backs of the two of them. In this bow, there was no distinction between official ranks, only respect for the strong.
Then, she turned around and turned into an afterimage, rushing towards the Southern Black Mountain Forest Sea. She could not die. She was carrying the time that these two people had sacrificed their lives for, and the hope left by Fang Mo.
The wind is getting stronger.
On the distant skyline, a ball of golden light was rapidly approaching.
"Coming."
Old Yan put away the cigarette bag and held it tightly Boning Knife.
Iron Bull had no weapons, so he raised his fists that were harder than pig iron.
"My rules." Old Yan stood up, his rickety back straightened at this moment, and a surge of Sha Qi burst out from this thin body.
That is not the blood of Martial Artist, but the ferocity of killing Yingye and soaking in this hell for a lifetime.
"When you enter Heavenly Prison, you have to go through the hall first. No matter you are a god or a Buddha, when you come to my place, you have to be coiled up like a dragon or lying down like a tiger!"
Boom!
Old Yan's figure disappeared.
The next moment, thousands of black lights as thin as gossamers bloomed in the air. That was his Boning Knife Intent, which specializes in finding gaps in muscles and bones and destroys Body Protecting True Gang.
At the same time, Iron Bull let out an earth-shattering roar, and his whole body turned into an out-of-bore cannonball, slamming into the Dharma Aspect Golden Body with his already broken chest.
This is a collision destined to have no suspense.
A mortal body, hard to beat Dharma Aspect.
Boom!
There was a loud noise that shook the area for hundreds of miles.
The light that burst out at that moment eclipsed the setting sun on the horizon.
Blood fell like rain, dyeing this desolate Gobi red.
The Golden Giant Palm was hit hard and lifted up three feet.
But among the golden light and Blood Mist in the sky, the two tiny figures did not fall. They were like two stubborn nails, nailed to the center of the official road, without taking a step back.
For the sake of the fleeing figure behind me.
For the man worthy of their lives.
The jailer guards the gate, and the gods and ghosts stay at bay.