Martial King’s Retired Life

Chapter 1205: Section 1205

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"Quiet.

Ming Feizhen suddenly leaned back and landed with a somersault.

"Oh shit.

At the same time as he smiled and marveled, a trace of blood was drawn on his cheek, and blood beads flowed down his cheek.

In the carriage, a lonely figure slowly stood up.

Ming Feizhen stretched out his tongue and licked off the blood, as if looking at this person with an endless aftertaste, and smiled.

"The point is tricky."

Volume 12: Heroes Mingfeizhen 51

In the dark night, a young man stood up from the carriage.

He was not tall, and he wore the usual black military uniform for walking in the rivers and lakes. What he treads on his feet is nothing but the leggings and fast boots that ordinary warriors love to wear. From the looks of it, he was only fourteen or fifteen years old, a young man of the same age as Ming Feizhen.

The young man's appearance is extremely handsome, but the divine light in his eyes is clearer than the cold lake in winter. It's not as cold as ice, and it doesn't feel cold when you look at it. But there is a kind of sharpness like a blade. Standing close to the neck, I felt the piercing cold.

He was holding a dark sword in his hand. It is difficult to judge the texture of the scabbard, and even the presence or absence of the scabbard is not certain. I only felt that the brilliance around the dark and strange seemed to be swallowed and sealed into the sword body, so that only a sword-shaped black shadow remained when the moonlight arrived here.

The black-clothed youth lifted the top cover and stepped out of the carriage, revealing the mother and son of the Zhuo family who were safe and sound behind him.

"Did you come after me directly

The young man was not surprised by Ming Fei's method of destroying the carriage, but was surprised that he suddenly appeared here.

And Ming Fei really liked him. This means that the opponent is a guy who has seen the world.

"There is a way of life who has never died since ancient times, and pity the hearts of parents all over the world. As long as you work hard, a husband and wife will be blessed a hundred days a day.

If you kidnap someone's wife and children, of course you have to be prepared to be chased and killed.

The young man looked at Ming Feizhen coldly and said suddenly.

"Have you cooperated with Zhuo Fengru?"

A few words allowed him to grasp the key, Ming Feizhen laughed instead.

The two teenagers, one black and one white, looked at each other and suddenly felt that the airflow was suffocated.

"It's enough to fight me alone."

The black-clothed boy suddenly swung his saber lightly, pointing diagonally at the ground, wondering if it was a starter gesture.

"The name of the sword is Death Omen, and my name is Leng Jingliu.

Ming Feizhen stretched out his foot and kicked, and a long dead tree branch flew into his hand.

"The knife is a dead branch, and I am a passerby."

The corners of his mouth curved into a wild smile.

"Can you fight?"

There was some kind of uneasy stirring in the air, as if silence and serenity voluntarily escaped from here.

But seeing the shadow like a swirling cloud, I didn't even hear the wind in the robe, and the white figure had disappeared.

The feeling that the horizon was suddenly split in two and the night was cut into one was sent to his mind with a very clear gesture. Although we knew it was impossible, air flow, skin touch, ear sounds, and even the feeling in my heart gave strong evidence again and again.

There was a dry explosion on the ground in the distance, and a huge pit sank into the ground. If it weren't for the long hair with a little blue under the moonlight, how would it know that Ming Feizhen was forced to retreat in one move. Listening to the explosive momentum, one can imagine how urgent it is to retreat.

Under the bleak moonlight soaking, Leng Jingliu is still Leng Jingliu, Yelin is still Yelin, and nothing has been cut.

At this time, a burst of crumbs came, like raindrops falling on the ground. The color is bright red, and blood is falling. After connecting with Ming Feizhen's broken left shoulder cloth, he realized what happened. The speed of the two was unbelievable, and even they were separated for a long time before they answered.

What a terrible swordsmanship!

Hua Feihua, who was watching from a distance, didn't even see him make a move, only that Ming Feizhen was gone on the spot, and there was only a pool of blood on the ground.

The expression of the black-clothed boy did not change, and even his posture remained the same. There's not even the slightest bit of evidence to be found.

Flower non-flower scalp tingling.

No, this man is too dangerous! To wait for Zhuo heroes to come together.

Before Hua Feihua could persuade him, Leng Jingliu suddenly crossed his sword. In the next instant, the white-haired boy descended from the air, his feet slammed on the crossed sword, with a fearless smile on his face, the wooden branch in his right hand stabbed at the opponent's head.

The moves have no merits at all, and the strong wind is so strong that people can't believe it.

There is no need to worry about flowers not being flowers. Leng Jingliu's strength was understood when Ming Feizhen saw him for the first time.

Although young, he has the look of a swordsman. It was the figure of a true swordsman who was looking for a sword wholeheartedly and put down the rest.

Leng Jingliu suddenly disappeared right in front of Mu Zhi and in front of him. I didn't see how the pitch-black sword edge circled, and the sword shadow that swallowed the light had already reached the dead wood branch.

Hearing a dull sound, I saw fists and swords intersect. Ming Feizhen's left arm grabbed the invisible sword road at some point, and left a punch on the hideous black shadow.

The long sword deflected back, like a fish swimming in the water.

This time the trajectory is much clearer.

It's not that the speed is slowed down by the impact of the blow, but this sword is like this. Leng Jingliu's sword slid away from Mingfeizhen's fist wind, as if alive. Regardless of Mingfei's real offensive, he stabbed the opponent's head with a single sword.

Only Ming Fei really knew that Leng Jingliu's sword was not avoiding, but a fist that opened everything like an iron barrel. His sword has been going in a straight road without going forward, as if he doesn't know what to turn back.

Just like that, he stabbed the white-haired boy. The sword is long and the fist is short, this is not a gamble, but a subtle trick to secure the victory.

Ming Fei was really not in a hurry, and the sky didn't fall: he turned his backhand in his hand and slapped the sword again with his backhand.

The two each took three steps back.

The only audience in the audience was Hua Feihua and the four people whose air pockets were sealed in the carriage, so there was no sound and a dead silence.

The two teenagers each let out a long breath.

Ming Feizhen turned his head to look at the back of his left hand. There was a sword mark on it, blood was like blood, and bones were visible. Although his Taiji magic can intercept the opponent's sword path, it is not completely suppressed. Otherwise, there should be no harm at all.

But that sword was just wiped.

There are few swords in the world that can break through his protective infuriating so easily.

"This sword of yours is weird, as if it doesn't have something that it can chop continuously." The blood beads are like overripe grapes, exuding a unique aura at the moment of rupture, stirring up the warrior's increasingly vigorous fighting spirit.

But this time, the owner of the blood is not Mingfeizhen.