The majestic Taikan Mountains, which stretched for thousands of miles, almost completely closed the long border between the Sak Empire and the Golden Empire. Under the gloomy sky, two torrents of humans collided together, and blood red surging above the peak, burying lives one by one.

The pain had already numbed Sikong Haoxuan's nerves. His shallow understanding of the battlefield of cold weapons cost him a considerable price. His body was covered with various wounds. The butcher knife in his hand no longer dared to make unnecessary moves, but just chopped for the sake of cutting.

Beichen, who was not far from Sikong Haoxuan, looked at Sikong Haoxuan's embarrassment, his eyes full of smiles, "Cut the throat?! The first few strokes were really handsome." The thin sword in his hand was beating at an extremely fast frequency. Every time he jumped, he took away a life. What he was chanting was the scripture of salvation.

The slight pain and such pure killing could not make Sikong Haoxuan feel scared. His shallow mastery of internal breath made him feel quite depressed, just like a rich man who didn't know how to spend money. This kind of mood could really make people crazy. In the battle on the battlefield, except for extremely evil witchcraft such as sacrifices, other witchcraft did not help Sikong Haoxuan at this time.

Four swords slashed at Sikong Haoxuan's body, and the approaching danger broke his thoughts. There were no dead corners, and the body was pushed by the inertia of the entire "torrent" and could not stop at all. Soul vision, an inspection from the soul, made him make a choice in an instant. The knife in his hand held the threat to stab his heart, and at the same time, the other three swords pierced his body.

The war was undoubtedly attributable to the war ended soon, and Sikong Haoxuan was carried off the battlefield. No one thought that he could survive with blood. The Blizzard soldiers in charge of the death camp were sweating coldly on their heads, and they didn't know how to explain to the Governor.

Not only did Sikong Haoxuan survive, but his body's recovery speed also made Beichen, who was healing him, feel incredible. The scattered blood on the battlefield is the most nutritious tonic for the soul witch. Although it has no effect on the improvement of Sikong Haoxuan's soul, the boiling blood on the battlefield can fully nourish every cell of his cell.

Beichen sat next to Sikong Haoxuan with a knife carved a piece of human bone, "Fourth Young Master, where is your butcher knife?"

Sikong Haoxuan glared at Beichen, squeezed out two words from his teeth, "Down." He was sure that Beichen did it on purpose, and he deliberately mentioned the exquisitely casted pagoda knife.

"I have decided that I will only be responsible for the soldiers of the Death Camp who hold the Butcher Sword in the future. If you don't want the prisoners in the Death Camp to be extinct, go and create the Butcher Sword with your dwarf friends." Sikong Haoxuan threw out a pile of the black thick-backed swords obtained from the tomb of Mima, "Use this as the raw material." After saying that, Sikong Haoxuan walked out of the camp.

The human bones and knife in Beichen's hand fell to the ground, looking at the thousands of knives in front of him, and stayed on the spot. He began to regret it in his heart, and shouldn't have stimulated people who could not withstand the stimulation. Now, he cast thousands of knives carved with hundreds of Buddhas, and Beichen felt his scalp numb.

Standing outside the dead camp, Sikong Haoxuan looked up at the vast sky and breathed the air with a faint bloody smell. The situation on the battlefield reappeared in his soul, simulating the effective use of internal force in that environment. Nanxing stood ten steps away, and the killing on the battlefield slowly made Nanxing's murderous intentions gradually complete. I believe that he would be able to fully step into the killing path in a few years.

A ray of coldness brought by the breeze that stroking the grassland made Sikong Haoxuan wake up from his meditation. He sighed in his heart, "The killing in the battlefield is really different. The skills in Siberian training camps have no meaning at all in the battlefield of tens of thousands of people. It has been said that the internal force that has been used for hundreds of thousands of years is worse than that of witchcraft. It seems that it takes some time to study it, otherwise it is really difficult to guarantee that he can survive the war in the future. Damn Ding Lie, he must have hidden something from me."

Sikong Haoxuan's body turned into a superimposed afterimage and shot towards the dead camp. Stops, turn, arcs, and other subtle changes began to appear between his body techniques.

The frequent wars were completely beyond Sikong Haoxuan's expectations, which made him not have too much time to simulate various methods of using internal energy in his soul. However, the battlefield is indeed the best training environment. As long as he can survive, he will pay a little price. Then he will get a breakthrough in both psychology and skills, but this breakthrough is not necessarily beautiful.

On the battlefield, Sikong Haoxuan waved the brand new fuku sword in his hand in freehand. He had long forgotten how many times this was fighting in this boring war, and his curiosity about the use of internal energy had long given up further exploration with the guarantee of life. He is more concerned about the wonderful expression on Beichen's face whenever the fuku sword cuts across a soldier's throat.

In the dense battle formation, Sikong Haoxuan's figure, supported by powerful internal forces, was moving in a subtle way that ordinary people could not understand. Countless swords and soldiers slashed on the shaking phantoms, and the butcher knife slashed through the throats of soldiers again and again, and steaming blood sprinkled all over Sikong Haoxuan's whole body. Beichen could only describe Sikong Haoxuan's progress in the battlefield. He didn't know that for the great witch, skills were just a low-level skill.

Over the past period of time, the prisoners in the Dead Camp's view of Sikong Haoxuan has gradually changed, because Sikong Haoxuan has saved more than one or two prisoners' lives on the battlefield. Although this was not his deliberate behavior, this team spirit that was completely deep into the bones made the Dead Camp slowly accept the son of the governor.

"Fourth Young Master, the horn of withdrawal has sounded. If you don't go back, you will be punished." A prisoner in the dead camp shouted to Sikong Haoxuan.

Sikong Haoxuan cut off a soldier's throat while flashing, wiped off the blood sprayed on his face, and walked towards his camp. He followed dozens of dead camp prisoners holding pagoda knives, which seemed to be somewhat different from other prisoners.

No one knows that these dozens of prisoners holding pagoda swords have received training from Sikong Haoxuan, and they themselves do not reveal a word. However, prisoners in the dead camp know that these prisoners holding pagoda swords have only died more than ten people in the recent intensive battles. Such a low death rate has given the prisoners hope, but the construction of pagoda swords is limited every day, which makes them helpless.

The poor dwarf not only had to go to the battlefield to kill the enemy, but also had a huge task of building. He felt that he still wanted to die. But as the key object of the death camp, he seemed to have no right to die.

In more than three months, wars in southern Xinjiang have become more and more frequent, and the Sak Empire has no intention of withdrawing troops. It is almost winter, and the battle is not good for both sides. The prisoners in the fifth dead camp where Sikong Haoxuan is located have been reduced to more than 3,000. Such a fast consumption speed makes the empire unable to provide further support. In the next war, the regular legions of both sides will inevitably contact the Taiken Pass.
Chapter completed!