Yingmeng stood lazily in the darkness like ink, with a despicable indifference.

Failed! Yingmeng has a faint indifferent attitude.

He was covered in red clothes stained with blood, his long black hair half covered his pale face, and there were faint black patterns on his cheeks.

Unable to reach the brain.

Yingmeng tilted her head lightly. Is it a backlash or a restriction?

A faint light suddenly appeared in the darkness, and the light broke through the darkness and gradually changed in this quiet world.

Yingmeng looked at the gradually clear picture in front of her, and a sick curve appeared on the corner of her mouth, allowing her to see what tricks those people were doing.

There were people on the backbone of the roof, and there were mountain sheds tied outside the hall, and there were gold and silver utensils and beautiful satin pieces. There were five horses tied outside the door, all of which were put on saddles and bridles.

Yingmeng fell on the ring. She was very familiar with this place, the ring where she used the gentleman sword to win the first place.

It was because I got the lottery and I was thrown into the genius training camp for a month. But at that time, I didn’t know anything except eating, otherwise there might not be so many troubles later.

Looking at the plaques with inflammatory words hanging on the ring, Ying Meng sniffed lightly, deep and dangerous. "Do you know that this place for competition and competition, and this competition for selecting talents, is it actually to provide nutrition to hell?"

Yingmeng looked indifferently at her side. She looked at her feet. There was no shadow. The "tick" sound inexplicably came from the air. This rhythmic melody was like the passage of time, like a symphony of death.

Ying Meng raised her foot and hit a person in the diameter, and it was not surprisingly penetrated.

Watching people pass through their bodies easily, it is like touching the air.

Yingmeng's obsidian-like eyes were deep and shimmering at this moment. I felt that it was not the soul state. Her cultivation was stored in the soul. If it was the soul state, she should be able to use power.

Such fragile things that seem to be dispersed as soon as they are blown can't be your own soul.

Ying Meng let out a light voice and analyzed her state. So it was a state of consciousness.

Control your talents, let yourself calculate the past, and then place her consciousness in a picture. Interesting.

Yingmeng moved quickly in one direction, but when she reached a certain position, she could no longer move forward.

This is like a picture, and she is blocked in this picture. So are these images calculated in her mind?

"Is this the so-called gift?" Ying Meng smiled slowly, and gently brushed the couplet outside the hall gate.

This font, this time, was a thousand years ago.

Ying Meng pursed her lips slightly, her slender eyefeeds trembled, and her voice suddenly became soft and glutinous, with some complaints. "I'm really irresponsible! I'll ask myself to find it myself."

Yingmeng slowly passed through the crowd, like passing through a cloud of air, without any obstacles. If this was a fantasy in her sea of ​​consciousness, then wouldn’t she be able to do whatever she wanted?

The dream of the shadow floated slowly and stopped in front of the stage. This was the first time she had seen the past scene, which was interesting. Since she was back, let her observe whether the so-called martial arts thousands of years ago and the so-called heroes thousands of years ago were really as outstanding as the legend.

There were two children on the stage who were about seven or eight years old. One was too thin, his clothes were a little yellow, his hair was messy and dirty. He knew at a glance that it was normal for life to not cover his clothes and not fill his stomach. The other was a pink and jade-carved, soft and delicate face, and a purple dress, which was almost half a body taller than the thin little one.

Yingmeng narrowed her eyes and was covered in red blood-stained clothes, which made her look dangerous and evil.

This duel may have two results: one is that the child in purple may have some advantages because the duel space is small. But the malnourished and thin guy has precocious maturity that is not consistent with his age. He is only wearing a thin white shirt, and his thin bones are about to fall out. The exposed skin is wounds of all sizes, and none of them is good. He should have suffered a lot of torture before.

There is no chance of winning in this state, but his eyes inexplicably made Ying Meng feel that he would win. The eyes were extremely sharp, which was an obsession and would not give up until he achieved his goal.

A monster in the mud faced the genius in the ivory tower, Ying Meng licked her teeth and looked at her.

The two of them took some quick little moves at the beginning, and it was obvious that the two of them should have not fought before.

Then some high and low sword crossings and some chopping attacks appeared.

The two have completely different styles.

The little guy used a form similar to a rotating dance, with many rotations in his movements, often changing heights, standing all the way down to his knees. He had many movements blocking. When the child in purple attacked him, he dodged and transferred the opponent's strength through rotation, which is why he could fight against the opponent's iron sword. The weapon he used seemed to be a sword with an overly long hilt. To be precise, a long stick with a blade at the end.

Ying Meng chuckled, with a bloodthirsty and sickness between her eyebrows and eyes. The weapon was chosen well, which was indeed very consistent with his body shape. His opponent obviously had a strength advantage, and using a longer weapon could keep him away from his opponent. His movements were very powerful, which could ensure that he was a target who was moving at any time.

However, the child in purple is not a good-looking lamp. Every sword lands on the ground is a mark. His agility may not be above him, but his damage power and defense awareness are not weak.

Ying Menglian's eyes were harsh and arrogant. It seemed that the little guy could not defeat his opponent in a short time, and as long as his physical strength decreased, it would have no meaning to continue. Judging from the little guy's condition, this game was his chance to escape his current situation. Haha, it seems that another genius is about to be locked by the tragedy.

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As time goes by, the little guy's physical strength is obviously insufficient. He didn't dodge and hit his head with a heavy sword, but after falling, he immediately attacked the opponent's fragile part, his feet.

Then quickly dodge aside to recover your strength.

A sigh came from the audience, it was obvious that this was a shady move.

And his opponents had several chances to kill him, but they were obviously more sportsmanlike.

Three, two, one.

Yingmeng silently recited in her heart. The moment she counted, the little guy clearly stated that he was almost out of strength and his movements were a little anxious.

Ying Meng giggled and said, "I'm so anxious."

The child in purple effectively blocked the little guy's attack, then quickly circled the little guy's attack with his wrist, and then flicked his wrist to bounce the sword in the little guy's hand to the ground.

The little boy in purple kicked the little guy in the knee, forcing him to kneel down, and put his sword on his neck, and said disdainfully: "You lost."

The weapon was knocked away, and the opponent's knife was placed on his neck. The opponent's body was almost twice his size, and there was no point in continuing to hit him.

There was a lot of discussion in the audience.

"No matter how fast the dodge speed is, it's still not OK without attack power."

"You don't even look at what he looks like. His previous games have consumed a lot of his energy."

"What a pity, this talent is a war slave."

"The war slave is a war slave. No matter how you do, you are all a low-key person. Look at him, almost all he uses to do is a black hand."

"So what about the black hand? The trick that can win is a good trick. It's a pity that he hasn't come to an end. This time he will probably be revenge by those who have won. Unfortunately, his life is not long."

"If you want to blame him, blame him for being unlucky. He actually encountered an opponent with pure bloodline. Shouldn't such a person be recommended? What do you mean by coming here?"

Yingmeng listened to their discussion thoughtfully and raised her eyebrows. The thinking of the fairy world a thousand years ago was quite open. In his era, this same scene was probably full of ridicule. Yingmeng narrowed Ling Na's eyes slightly, and the remarks about her sounded in her ears again.

“Waste, waste.”

"As a matter of fact, outsiders are lowly. Tongtian's cultivation level does not belong to you."

Yingmeng blocked the cruel laughter in his heart. If this was the method of the genius training camp, it would be too much of a joke. What exactly do they want to do?

Yingmeng slowly looked up at the skinny little guy with scars all over his body. It's okay, she still has the patience. Let's wait. Isn't there a good show here?
Chapter completed!