The stumbling mud and the slippery rain brought everyone's strength to the same level, even experts like Drinking Blood were no exception. He just solved an enemy, the dragon teeth cut off the enemy’s weapon, and instantly opened the enemy’s throat, so in the gushing blood, he picked up a broken hoe by drinking blood. That’s right. An ordinary agricultural hoe is not the famous weapon of a quack master. In other words, it took a quarter of an hour to drink blood, and used all his skills to defeat a farmer who worked all day long in the farmland.
What is this! Drinking blood angrily roared towards the sky, and the endless rainstorm responded to him. Then he must be ready to fight as soon as possible, because the ghost knows whether the next enemy is the peasant or the master of the death gate.
Compared to drinking blood, ordinary Jianghu disciples are not so lucky. They don't have the ability to drink blood and kill with one blow, so the encounter in the heavy rain is their nightmare.
"Kill!" The three thief disciples brandished the daggers in their hands and rushed towards the three deceased disciples who had the same daggers in their hands. Then, for the first time, both sides flew and kicked the dagger in the opponent's hand. The hand-to-hand battle with the dagger that should have happened did not happen, and the two fighting parties started fighting with the most primitive weapons. You bite my left arm firmly, and my right hand strangled your neck; you squeezed my eyeballs with your hand, and I pressed your knees against your ****; every inch of skin, every drop of blood is incarnate As a weapon to kill the enemy, hit with your fists, knock with your elbows, top your knees, kick with your feet, hit hard with your head, bite with your teeth, curse with your eyes, and use your best to defeat the enemy in front of you!
A thief disciple was picked up by the last weapon in the enemy’s hand and the stick pierced the muscle of his left leg. However, his teeth severely smashed the enemy’s throat, and his two front teeth were also lost when he let go. Bring it down, yes, it also costs a price to bite the enemy, the teeth will often fall into the flesh, and then be forcefully taken away by oneself.
"Bah! I want to kill Laozi, another hundred years!" The thief disciple viciously stepped on the enemy's corpse, and then lost his center of gravity. The late pain in his left leg suddenly spread to the brain, accompanied by excitement and severe pain. , He fell helplessly in the muddy water.
Of course, small-scale team battles also broke out, it was Suomen's team. Only they can hug each other in such a harsh environment. Twenty Sormon disciples waved their weapons in unison, clamoring to rush into the camp of Wangshengmen, like a black sharp knife, carrying The breath of death reaped the enemy's life mercilessly.
"Kill!" Suomen's silver knife rushed to the forefront, and several silver knife masters each wielded their famous weapons, and instantly killed the rushing soldiers. Their movements are neat and uniform, and the results of the training are undoubtedly revealed here. Although the rain is heavy, and although the muddy soles of the feet make it difficult to maintain balance, the killing is still carried out efficiently.
"Kill!" Then came Suomen's ordinary swordsmen. They were equally brave, but their skills were a little worse after all, but when they proudly raised their swords in their hands, they let the enemy's blood splash all over their faces. At that time, no one dared to despise them, because in such a battlefield, the one who survives is the king.
The front-line commander of Wangshengmen quickly discovered this team that should not be underestimated. They were also gathering people. Three of the twelve soldiers happened to be nearby, and dozens of brave and brave soldiers launched a new round of counterattack. . They cannot tolerate the clamor and killing of these infidels, and killing to stop killing is the only right way.
"Come on!" Bing Shi of the Twelve Shili waved the giant sickle in his hand and rushed to the forefront. The silver knife dazzled and the blade turned, and the 17 kilograms of shining light and the giant sickle completed a head-to-head encounter. His sword is also called Yaoguang, just like his people, shining with its own glory in the dark night.
The blade of the giant sickle pierced Yao Guang's face, and the faint blood flowed into Yao Guang's mouth with the rain, a familiar taste, a familiar killing intent, and a familiar feeling. Yaoguang felt that something had ignited his fighting spirit. The feeling was very strange. It seemed that swinging a knife had become a natural habit, and it seemed that his moves and defenses had become a graceful dance, which was the best for his life. Interpretation, that is the meaning of his existence. The dazzling light is heavy but not sharp, and it is clumsy and clumsy. The quaint knife is covered with patterns that are difficult to interpret. It is said that it is an ancient symbol. Yaoguang didn't understand these, he only knew that the blood of the enemy would flow along these patterns, so that his beloved knife would be covered with the glory of the victor.
Bing Shi’s giant sickle has harvested the enemy’s head countless times. He is a man known as the god of death in southern Xinjiang. Except for the Swordsman, he is a bloodthirsty killer, in fact, he coveted the position of the Swordsman not a day or two. He liked the feeling of killing more than being an unknown dead soldier. He likes to kill people in the sun, that is his stage, that is incomparable art, eternal art. And he is the greatest artist!
The enemy against him is undoubtedly very powerful. Although the heavy rain has washed the enemy's face indistinctly, even though he does not know the giant knife, Bing Shi understands that he is not against the inactive generation.
The battle between the two of them was accompanied by a loud noise. Sometimes the explosion of thunder provided them with the best accompaniment. Although the weapon was heavy, it did not affect the light dance steps of both sides at all. If there were no occasional splashes. With blood, we even suspect that the two fighting each other are not struggling with life and death, but dancing in three quick steps.
Someone has said that two masters can feel what the other side thinks through the intersection of their weapons. What Yaoguang can feel at this moment is the boundless pleasure and satisfaction. He believes that the other side is the same, full of wild aura, and swings with extreme pleasure. Strikes, shocking collisions, and the passion to drift on the edge of life and death, all these seem so moving, so fascinated.
Yaoguang even misplaced a chance to kill his opponent. His Yaoguang just sent an inch forward to tear his opponent's chest, and Bing Shi's giant sickle almost hooked his own throat. Yaoguang didn’t know that the escape from the dead was not accidental, and sympathy was not just empty talk, just like two people now. With the exhaustion after 300 rounds, the killing intent gradually subsided, and what appeared out of thin air was Tribute to each other.
After the last collision, the two sides galloped away in opposite directions with eloquence. Perhaps they both wished to change place and state of mind, maybe sit down for a cup of tea, discuss martial arts, and talk about recent new movies and Gossip, be a pair of friends who are too close to each other.
It is a pity that the future is never predictable, Yaoguang died of a cold arrow without a target, and Bing Shi died under the sword formation of Wudang disciples.