Ink painting has become interested.
He looked at it carefully several times and confirmed that the white-faced man's fireball technique was indeed a bit tricky, which was different from the ordinary fireball technique.
I want to study ink painting again.
The scarfaced and the white-faced man have already stopped.
This is Heishan Village. They want to look at the mountain gate. If something goes wrong due to a temporary rift, they will die.
So even if you fight, you will try it out easily and dare not really take action.
Ink painting is a bit disappointing.
He also hopes that the two of them will fight to the death, so he can get a flaw.
As a result, the thunder was loud and the rain was small. After just a few moves, it was over.
The scarred face and the white-faced man each made a few harsh words, sat together and started drinking bad wine, as if nothing had happened just now.
But while looking at each other, there was murderous intention in their eyes.
Mo Hua thought about it and still cared about the fireball technique of the white-faced man.
He now has a spell to save his life, but his attack spell is inferior.
Although the fireball technique is fast and accurate, its power is indeed average.
If you can learn the tricks of fireball from the white-faced man, you can also enhance your attacking methods without learning other spells.
Ink painting was so concerned that after the day, he began to follow the white-faced man.
I saw the white-faced man guarding the night and went straight back to his room.
The white-faced man is just an ordinary evil cultivator. The room he lives in is no different from other evil cultivators. It is quite spacious, but the furnishings are messy and not bloody. There is only a big box in the corner of the wall.
After staying up all night, the white-faced man looked sleepy. He rested for a while, then got up and began to close his eyes and meditate and practice.
The ink painting looks a little strange.
This white-faced man seemed to have no use of spirit stones when he was practicing.
Without the use of spirit stones, what can he cultivate? Can he cultivate the air?
After a while, the white-faced man opened his eyes and a hint of irritability flashed through his eyes.
He walked straight to the corner and opened the big box in the corner.
Mo Hua lay on the beam of the house and looked around. He saw that the box contained a living monk!
The monk's face was pale and thin, and he shrank timidly hid in the box, not daring to speak.
The white-faced man ordered: "Come out."
Hearing this, the monk turned his eyes dullly, and then walked out.
"Kneel down!"
The monk did not resist and knelt down as he said.
The white-faced man saw the man kneeling in front of him, his eyes were excited, and then his palm pressed on his forehead.
The monk's spiritual power began to go against the flow, and then the confession of the man's palm gathered in his sea of ​​energy.
The monk seemed to have been used to accepting it, his expression was tumultuous, neither resisting nor making a sound, like a piece of wood or a dead object, enduring the fate of spiritual power being extracted.
With a cup of tea, the white-faced man absorbed his spiritual power and was satisfied, and his dead white face also became bloody.
He patted the monk's face and said in an alms tone:
"The martial arts I teach you, you must practice well."
"You must remember that it was me who saved your life and let you be a 'spirit slave', which is a gift to you. Otherwise, you would have been sucked into adults by other evil practitioners."
"You can still live now, thank me!"
After the white-faced man finished speaking, he pointed to the box and said, "Go back, don't make a sound."
The monk who was regarded as a "spirit slave" walked back to the wooden box with a wooden look, curled up silently in the box without making any sound.
The ink painting looked heartbroken.
Only then did he realize that the so-called spiritual slaves meant treating monks as slaves and sucking out their spiritual power.
These monks are more like moving "spirit stones" than humans.
He actually treats people as spiritual slaves and spirit stones.
Mo Hua's small eyebrows frowned.
As Elder Yu said, the monks here are indeed all beasts.
The white-faced man sucked the spiritual power of the "spirit slave" and then began to meditate and refine.
The spiritual energy of the spirit stone is pure, and the spiritual power of the cultivator is different.
Although it is easier and more convenient to refine the spiritual power of other monks, it will repel its own spiritual power, and will become evil and easily change your mind and become possessed by evil spirits.
Therefore, the technique of absorbing spirits is regarded as evil and cannot be tolerated by the Taoist court.
This is what Zhang Lan told Mo to paint.
The white-faced man sucked the spiritual power of the spiritual slave, meditated and refined, and his face changed uncertainly.
Sometimes it is ferocious, sometimes it is ecstatic, sometimes it is crazy, sometimes it is mixed with pain and pleasure.
After a while, the white-faced man finished practicing and returned to his appearance of white face and empty body, but his cultivation aura was indeed enhanced a little.
The white-faced man was in a happy mood and took out a book from the storage bag and focused on looking.
The ink painting glanced secretly and his heart jumped.
Part of the cover page of the book was blocked by the white-faced man, but the two words exposed were "Fireball."
Fireball Technique!
Sure enough, this white-faced male cultivator has a special fireball technique!
If it were ordinary fireball techniques, he had no reason to regard them as treasures, and carried them with him, and he would take them out from time to time to study.
But he carried the secret of this fireball technique with him, and it is difficult to steal ink paintings.
It seems that I can only talk about it later when I have the chance.
Before Mo Hua left, he looked at the wooden box in the corner of the wall again. In that box, there was a spiritual slave.
The spirit slave should not be of great age, but his face was pale and thin, his spiritual power was squeezed out, and he looked much older.
Although he looks dull and has no expression now, he may have been a cheerful and kind boy.
I wonder if his parents knew that he had fallen into the Heishan Village?
As soon as he thought of this, Mo Hua sighed.
Now that my cultivation is limited, I can't save him at all.
If you succeed in your cultivation in the future, you will definitely kill these evil demons and heretics one by one!
Mohua thought angrily.
In the next few days, Mo Hua still focused on painting maps.
One day, Mo Hua was a little hungry, so he went to the kitchen of Heishan Village to find some food.
The kitchen in Heishan Village is very large and the location is relatively remote.
It was a bit dirty and messy inside, with blood everywhere, and the table was filled with various pieces of meat.
Mo Hua didn’t know what kind of meat these were, so she didn’t dare to eat them.
I can only steal some wild fruits and pastries to fill my stomach.
Before he came, he didn't expect to stay in Heishan Village for so long, so he didn't eat much in the storage bag.
Now that the things in the storage bag have already been eaten, I can only eat some things from evil cultivators, it’s all right.
The wild fruit is a little sour and a little astringent, and has a bad taste.
It is estimated that the toxic miasma in the deep mountains is too strong and the water and soil are not good, so there is no good fruit.
The pastries are even worse.
Mo Hua took a bite and almost spit it out.
It's far worse than what he's doing.
Mo Hua missed the meals her mother cooked, and suddenly thought that she had been in Heishan Village for several days, and her parents had no news, so she didn't know how much she should worry.
Mo Hua sighed in his heart: "If I had known, I would say to my parents first, so that they would not worry."
But now that things have come to this point, it is useless to regret it.
It’s better to finish the map as soon as possible, inquire about good news, and then go back earlier.
It also saves parents from worrying.
Mo Hua nodded, then endured the odor and swallowed the pastry.
Although this pastry is unpalatable, it can fill your stomach at least.
At this time, there is nothing to choose from.
As the ink painting was eating, I suddenly heard someone talking.
One of the people who spoke was an old man who cooked in the kitchen, and the other one was a little familiar with Mo Hua.
Mo Hua raised her head from the bottom of the table, took a secret look, and found that the other person was the fat monk.
The fat monk killed the thin monk and asked for directions with the thin monk's head. He entered the Black Mountain Village, but he only had a job of delivering food.
The old man instructed the fat monk and said, "Give this meal to the young master, don't let him starve to death."
The fat monk nodded.
Mo Hua was chewing the pastry, but suddenly he was stunned.
"Young Master? What kind of young master?"
Mo Hua frowned.
"It won't be... the young master of the Kong family."
Thank you Uncle Yan, the reward from the dark night Xingchen ~
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Chapter completed!