"This issue is something you should consider, not me." The old man finished speaking quietly, and without waiting for Mo Hun's reply, he turned around and walked back.

Mo Hun looked at the back of an octogenarian old man, but he had a very strange feeling. He felt that this old man was a puzzle with questions, one after another, making his heart uneasy.

"How about one more move?" Mo Hun said suddenly.

Quietly, the old man's footsteps stopped.

The trembling wind blew through the open space between the two of them, bringing with it a chilling aura that made people shudder.

"Are you sure of yourself?" the old man asked with squinting eyes. His deep eyes contained a fighting spirit that would never end, like a spark on the vast grassland that instantly started a prairie fire.

Mo Hun's sword turned red again.

The same color as the eyes, scarlet and scary.

But the cold light in the old man's eyes was no less than that of Mo Hun.

The old man turned around and glanced at Mo Hun's sword quietly and nonchalantly.

"In addition to using your bag, do you do anything else?" Mo Hun asked.

Although Mo Hun wanted to fight and fight for his mission, he didn't want to fight someone whose weakness he had seen through. That would be somewhat boring.

"Just take action, you won't be my opponent." The old man said impatiently and coldly. He gently pushed the bag around his waist back, raised his palm, and stretched his thumb slightly forward.

"How about we play a game. After one move, if I rescue the three people in the bag, you lose." Mo Hun asked.

"It's fun." The old man smiled again. Although his smile was ugly and unpopular, he didn't care about it because the only person in the world who couldn't see his smile was his own eyes, so the old man didn't go.

Pay attention to these insignificant things.

Phew~~~

In an instant, the demonic breath surged out violently.

Mo Hun was slightly happy in his heart. Mo Hun had an intuition. He concluded that although the old man's bag could subdue the opponent when he released his breath, it was not absolute. If the breath released by the outside enemy was greater than what the bag could hold,

upper limit, then the bag will fail, that must be the case.

Sure enough, when the old man saw the monstrous demonic aura released by Mo Hun, he frowned slightly and showed a hint of a wry smile, but that charm was fleeting and made people even more uneasy.

In an instant, strong winds blew up between heaven and earth, filling their eyes.

This wind is so strange and so regular, why does it have to blow up?

The smoke and dust brought up by this storm enveloped the two of them.

Two people in battle.

The two of them closed their eyes at the same time.

"Why hasn't your sword come out yet? Has it already come out again?" The old man closed his eyes and stared at Mo Hun's breath, and asked coldly.

"No, my sword hasn't been drawn yet." Mo Hun said coldly, adjusting his breath.

Whoosh.

At this time

A sound broke through the air.

The sound sounded like a sword cutting through clothes.

Crisp, extremely shockingly crisp, anyone who sees the sword passing by will look at it sideways.

But along with that crisp sound, there was a soft muffled sound.

Although the muffled sound is very small, you can still hear it if you listen carefully.

The sound was soft, like the sound of an old man walking, but more like the sound of one person's palm hitting another person.

Suddenly.

The moment the sound disappeared.

The figures of the two men appeared under a dark curtain.

A glowing gray figure, and a glowing red figure.

The two stood back to back, with a distance of three meters between them.

Under the gray light and shadow, the old man's clothes were torn by sharp objects.

It's quite a strange place, it's not the chest or the base of the neck, but the waist.

If a swordsman attacks the waist with a sword, it is obviously not a cruel move, but the sword mark actually penetrated there and cut a piece of clothing around the waist. To be precise, it was the belt around the old man's waist.

.

There should have been something on top of that belt, something not very important, but it still disappeared.

That thing was now in Mo Hun's hand. Mo Hun lifted it up with one hand and shook it gently, as if he was showing off something proudly.

But blood overflowed from the corners of Mo Hun's mouth.

A dark palm print was clearly revealed on Mo Hun's chest.

The piece of clothing where the palm print was located was obviously dented, making anyone think that Mo Hun had been seriously injured this time.

Injury or anything like that, Mo Hun has never put it on his body, never, because no one has ever been able to really hurt him, it hasn't happened before, but I don't know if it will happen in the future.

The old man seemed to have seen it, but it was also possible that he felt Mo Hun's show off.

When a person loses the weapons he relies on for survival in a battle, it is not a very pleasant thing to think about, but judging from the old man's behavior, he really wants to not care about this matter at all.

Suddenly.

Mohun took away the magic sword,

Because only in this way can Mo Hun be able to open this bag.

During this period of time, this extremely short period of time, the old man just stood with his back to him and made no other movements. He seemed to be very confident in his weapon, or he didn't care at all.

Mohun is calm.

Grab the pocket of the bag with both hands and pull it hard to both sides.

This bag is at least a fairy weapon.

A high-end storage artifact.

You won't be able to open it just by relying on stupid strength. This requires the use of specific spells.

Mo Hun knows these things and fully understands them.

Because if the bag cannot be opened by oneself, the old man will not give it to himself.

What a strange inference.

The old man knew that Mo Hun could open it, but he still gave the bag to Mo Hun so easily.

A bag, a gray bag, with a wonderful flower embroidered on it with thin golden threads.

The flower became bright and bright under Mo Hun's strong pull.

It seemed to be cheering Mo Hun, and it seemed to be mocking him, but Mo Hun no longer cared about these.

Because this bag was easily opened by Mo Hun.

A bag.

A bag that can easily take away strong men. What is the structure inside this bag and how powerful the universe is contained? Mo Hun faintly wants to know.

But the moment the bag was opened.

A golden nebula enveloped Mo Hun.

Mo Hun raised his eyes, looked at the stars flying out, and smiled calmly.

No matter how hard you fight, those stars are like a swarm of bees running out of the honeycomb, surrounding themselves and then gathering together desperately.

When these golden lights touch Mo Hun, Mo Hun's body will become like these golden light spots and be sucked into the bag instantly.

But Mo Hun didn't put up any resistance at all, and continued to fight against the covering of those golden lights.

Mohun is not afraid?

Maybe it’s not afraid, maybe it’s helpless, maybe it’s...

next moment.

Sure enough, Mo Hun's body truly turned into starlight, turned into those golden light spots, and was instantly absorbed by the bag.

The old man raised his hand in the air. When the gesture stopped, there was a bag in his hand.

The old man smiled and nodded, and said with a smile: "What a strange child. When you invite him in, he doesn't come in. Instead, he invites himself in."

The old man sighed.

Once upon a time, I was so strong that even if I die, I will die by my own sword. I will never let my cruel enemy have a chance to kill me.

Now, time flies by, and I never imagined that there is another me in this world, doing things that I want to do but cannot.

Isn't this an extremely wonderful thing?
To be continued...