Remember in one second,
boom!
The rumbling sound was like thunder, resounding throughout the heavens.
Ye Chen, who was even smaller than gravel, actually knocked the magic pillar holding up the sky and collapsed.
The sky and the earth trembled, and a pitch-black halo spread unrestrictedly from Beizhen Cangyuan. Wherever it passed, the demons disappeared in pieces. Whether they were demon soldiers or demon generals, anyone contaminated by the pitch-black light If you faint, it will instantly turn into flying ash, and no trace can be found again.
No... no no...!
The dark world is filled with such frightened roars, and the demon soldiers will roar in despair.
The Optimian Demonic Pillar was the foundation for the Heavenly Demon's invasion of Dachu. When it was destroyed, the Heavenly Demon in Dachu was also destroyed. This is why the Heavenly Demon tried his best to protect the Optimian Demonic Pillar from the beginning to the end.
It is a vast and terrifying picture.
Looking down at the sky, the demon soldiers and generals covering the earth seemed to have been wiped away by an invisible big hand.
asshole!
In the ethereal space, there seemed to be such a voice, cold and majestic.
That was supposed to be a great emperor from the Heavenly Demon Realm, who was about to come to Dachu, but failed to come because the Optimizing Demonic Pillar was destroyed.
I don't know how long it took before the roar of this land was extinguished, and there was no longer a demon in Dachu.
The world fell into a deathly silence at this moment.
Dachu was devastated, and everywhere you looked was bloody. Corpses were strewn across the fields and blood flowed into rivers.
The broken battle flag of Dachu was still roaring in the wind, stained with the blood of Dachu monks. Those who were once living lives were now lying on this land.
In a corner of the earth, Ye Chen was lying there quietly.
He was not dead yet. His messy white hair, stained with blood, covered half of his vicissitudes of face. He looked so old and tired, as if he had slept for thousands of years.
He won and did not disappoint the people of the world. He paid off the blood debt for the ninety million heroic souls of Chu.
The breeze blows gently, as if carrying the call of a beautiful woman, stirring his blood-stained white hair, caressing his holy body riddled with holes, hoping that he can sleep more peacefully after the vicissitudes of life.
break!
Finally, the silence of this land was broken by a cold scolding.
The Tianxuan Sect was unsealed, and a bright beam of light shot straight into the sky, breaking through the sky-covering cage and poking a big hole in the misty sky. The chaotic clouds and mist that covered the sky were also cleared away. open.
Suddenly, a dazzling ray of sunlight shines on the earth. This should be the first ray of sunlight since the invasion of the demon.
The chaotic clouds and mist continued to dissipate, revealing the blue sky, and the warm sunshine poured down on the entire earth. The dim Dachu saw the light again after experiencing the catastrophe of the demon.
God appears! God appears!
Once again, light filled the world, and mortals prostrate themselves one by one, worshiping devoutly, hoping that God would not bring disaster again.
However, how could they know how much the immortals they called had to pay a heavy price in order to see light again in this world? Every ray of sunshine was exchanged for the blood of countless Dachu monks. No matter how bright it was, The dazzling blood redness between the sky and the earth cannot be erased.
Under the sunshine, the sleeping Ye Chen was taken away.
The world of Dachu is still peaceful.
I don't know how long it took before I heard the sound of mourning.
Looking from a distance, there were figures in twos and threes, all young monks, looking for their loved ones in the mountains of corpses and seas of blood.
There are still monks in Dachu, but they are negligible, and they are basically young monks. The ones who fought against the demons were their ancestors. After the catastrophe, they survived.
After the demon disappeared, more and more young monks set foot on the land of Beichu, searching in the vast world, and the sounds of mourning could not be heard.
Nanchu.
Ye Chen lay quietly on the ice jade bed, as motionless as an ice sculpture. He had slept for nine days since he was brought back.
For these nine days, he slept peacefully, and his broken holy body continued to recover during his sleep. However, the hidden wounds of the battle with the Emperor were imprinted on his bones and could not be erased overnight.
In front of the ice jade bed, there is a beautiful figure standing. If you look carefully, it is Xiong Er's wife Tang Ruxuan.
She is one of the few survivors of Dachu monks. In the entire Hengyue Sect, apart from Ye Chen, she is the only one who is still alive. She found Ye Chen, but she did not find her husband.
Beside her, there was a petite figure.
That was Ruoxi, not a monk, but a survivor. At this moment, Ye Chen was looking at the ice jade woman with a pair of big eyes. From time to time, he would reach out his little hand to touch Ye Chen's face.
On the tenth day, while Ye Chen was sleeping, his little finger trembled slightly.
The next moment, he opened his eyes tiredly, with a touch of confusion in his somewhat cloudy eyes.
"Junior Brother Ye, you're awake." Tang Ruxuan, who was guarding the ice jade bed, hurriedly stepped forward.
"Where is this?" Ye Chen's voice was hoarse.
"Heng Yuezong." Tang Ruxuan smiled with tears in her eyes, her face looked very haggard.
"Heng Yuezong." Ye Chen murmured, feeling a sting in his heart, and he did not dare to look directly into Tang Ruxuan's eyes. Her husband went to war with him, but that was his brother, but his body was buried in a foreign land.
Suddenly, he stepped off the ice jade bed and stepped out of the attic.
Today's Hengyue Sect is in dilapidated condition. More than 90% of the spiritual mountains and palaces and pavilions have collapsed, and there is a mess everywhere. This is not the fairyland-like Hengyue Sect of the past.
Without saying a word, he walked out of Hengyuezong. His head was full of white hair, and his back looked bleak and estimated.
On the land of Nanchu, he walked endlessly, going to the headquarters of Tianting, Qingyun Sect and Zhengyang Sect.
His back was left in almost every corner of Nanchu.
Everywhere he went, he would stop for a long time. On the devastated land, he could vaguely see familiar figures and familiar faces, intertwining with him an unforgettable memory.
After traveling all over Southern Chu, he set foot on the land of Northern Chu.
In today's world of monks in Dachu, it is difficult to see monks when you look around.
The huge land was too empty and deathly silent.
Just like in Southern Chu, the land of Northern Chu was also devastated. There was no longer a city or a complete mountain. The great mountains and rivers were completely slaughtered by the abominable war.
He was still walking endlessly, and every inch of ground he stepped on was stained with the blood of Da Chu monks. Those ninety million heroic souls of Da Chu included his lovers, disciples, masters, brothers and ancestors.
His eyes blurred.
What kind of world is this? This land should not be like this. It should have living creatures and laughter.
However, the living creatures and laughter that should have been there have turned into scars in the vicissitudes of memory. They have been praised from generation to generation and lamented from generation to generation.
He walked and picked up along the way, like a twilight old man or a poor scavenger, picking up the remaining blood and bones of the dead and the weapons of the heroic souls during his lifetime. He wanted to put them away, then It was them who fought to the last drop of blood for the continuation of this land.
As the breeze blew, he gently raised his hand and grasped the ground.
Buzz!
As the earth trembled, a stone tablet was condensed, which was tens of thousands of feet tall and stood tall in the sky.
He waved his palm and with heavy grief, carved three words on the tombstone: Tomb of Heroes.
He did not leave, but stood quietly in front of Wan Zhang's tombstone, holding a bamboo knife in his hand, and kept carving on the tombstone. That was a personal name. They died for this land, so future generations should remember it.
Tang Ruxuan also came and carved Xiong Er's name with tears.
In the silent night, the surviving young monks came one after another, holding bamboo knives in each hand, and with tears in their eyes, they carved their names on the hero's tombstone with one stroke.
(End of chapter)