The place Ye Qingluo chose was the stone wall with the totem of the Mausoleum King just now!
The head of the mausoleum king on the stone wall is the mechanism of the stone wall.
As long as he grasps this point, there is still time to expel Nangong Feiran's body energy.
A group of people ran wildly all the way, and after a while, they had already arrived at the stone wall.
Ye Qingluo sent the mercenaries back to the middle level of the mausoleum king's tomb, and turned their heads to take a look, but they didn't see the corpse puppets chasing after them.
She breathed a sigh of relief.
High-level corpse golems are not afraid of fire.
But how many corpse puppets still have an impact.
At least, for a while, these five corpse puppets have no way to break free from the raging fire.
Ye Qingluo was the last to cross the stone wall, and quickly pressed on the stone wall.
There was another deafening "rumbling" sound, and the opened stone wall was slowly closed.
Everyone breathed a sigh of relief, leaning against the wall and gasping for air.
At this time, he completely ignored the slippery vines and the moss that made his hair stand upside down on the wall.
Zi Qianqian supported Nangong Feiran and sat down against the rock wall.
Ye Qingluo didn't waste time, walked straight to Nangong Feiran, squatted down, and pulled his arm corroded by the corpse puppet.
The touch of starting, and its coldness.
A slight touch is like touching ice.
Eviscerate cool.
Ye Qingluo's expression was a little dignified, and he raised his eyes to look carefully at Nangong's handsome face.
Nangong Fei closed his eyes tightly, a thin layer of cold air seeped out of his forehead, and his eyelashes were stained with a circle of frost.
The lower corners of the eyes were covered in black and blue.
The situation is more serious than imagined.
"Girl, you have to expel his corpse gas as soon as possible!" Old Man Cang urged, "If the corpse gas permeates the heart and corrodes the Xuanxin Jade, he will be hopeless."
Ye Qingluo took a deep breath.
She has not dabbled in the method of expelling corpse gas.
It's just that when I was looking at the information on the tomb of King Ling last night, I also imagined the issue of corpse aura.
At that time, he only asked the old man Cang about the simple method to prevent the corpse gas from entering the body, but did not delve into it.
At this moment, she had no choice but to listen to old man Cang's command.
Ye Qingluo flipped her palm, and the red feather fan slid into her palm. She squeezed the handle of the fan tightly, flicked her fingertips, and a sharp dagger slipped out.
She straightened Nangong Feiran's arm, and the dagger was about to cut off his wound.
But Zi Qianqian held her arm, "What are you going to do!"
"Let go!" Ye Qingluo frowned, and looked at her coldly with displeasure, "I really doubt the true strength of the gold medal mercenary group."
Her tone was full of disdain and sarcasm: "Since entering the tomb of the Mausoleum King, your God-killing mercenary group has caused problems again and again, dragging down our actions and causing my burden."
"You... What are you talking about!" Zi Qianqian's pretty face flushed with anger, and her eyes, which were usually cold, were full of anger.
Ye Qingluo snorted softly: "What I said, you all know in your heart. If I had known that you were such a bunch of trash, I would never have signed that deal with you!"
These words are completely naked. The General Killing God Mercenary Group completely dislikes them.
The mercenaries of the Tianxia Mercenary Corps felt very happy in their hearts.
They all gave thirty-two praises in their hearts for the words of their deputy head!
From the beginning to the end, the killing god mercenary group put themselves in a high position.
It was like condescending to accompany them into the bottom of the Mausoleum's tomb.
But in fact, the performance of the killing god mercenary group is completely a dragging existence.
Not only did it not play any practical role, but it even kept causing troubles that killed people one after another.
Ye Qingluo curled his lips coldly, and the coldness in his eyes was even worse: "I'm not a saint, and there will always be times when my patience runs out."