What?

The remaining thoughts of the saint of the Northern Tang Dynasty were wiped out?

Looking at the saint of Northern Tang Dynasty who quickly disappeared.

And the patterns that have disappeared on the Dragon-Slaying Platform.

Everyone felt their brains buzzing, as if they had been hit hard.

This is a saint from the Northern Tang Dynasty!

The founder of the Northern Tang Sect.

It is said that at his peak, he was a strong man at the ninth level of the Saint Realm.

It's just one step away from becoming a deity.

Although it has fallen for more than 30,000 years.

But he is the supreme saint after all.

In this sanctified place, a wisp of holy patterns left behind will remain immortal for thirty thousand years.

But now.

Disappear!

The last trace of remnant left in the human world has completely disappeared.

Since then.

The saint of the Northern Tang Dynasty died completely.

at the same time.

In front of the mountain gate of the Northern Tang Sect.

That statue of the ancestor is a hundred meters in size.

Suddenly a crack appeared.

The crack is as thick as a finger.

From the center of the eyebrows down to the soles of the feet.

It's like being split in two.

Although he hasn't fallen down yet, his appearance is extremely embarrassing.

"No!"

On the Dragon-Slaying Platform, Saint Son of Hundred Poisons exclaimed with disbelief on his face.

The saint of the Northern Tang Dynasty, who was like a god in his mind, was destroyed just like that?

He didn't want to believe it, and he couldn't believe it.

Outside the Dragon-Slaying Platform.

Feng Lingbei, Xu Mohe and other Northern Tang Sect disciples had even darker eyes and shaky bodies.

Ancestor... was defeated?

How is this possible!

But the holy pattern has disappeared, and the holy power has not remained at all.

There is no other explanation other than defeat.

"Groan!"

Mo Long stepped on the Dragon Slaying Platform, raised his head and let out a dragon roar of pleasure.

This resentment has been held back for thirty thousand years.

At this point, I finally vented my anger.

The roar of the dragon shakes the sky!

"The sacred patterns of the saints of the Northern Tang Dynasty are just gone?"

Yaoyao also failed to recover from the shock.

At this time, my neck was stiff and my eyes were horrified.

"Why!"

Ancestor Xie Yun sighed and said nothing.

This result was also beyond his expectation.

"I knew Master Xiao would win!"

Xiang Fei breathed a sigh of relief and kept clasping her hands.

It's also a little looser.

"Thank you, Lord True Dragon, for your help!"

At this time, after Mo Long vented his grievances.

He came to Xiao Changfeng respectfully.

He knows it very well.

If Xiao Changfeng hadn't awakened him and given him a mouthful of blood essence.

I'm afraid he will never be able to avenge this.

What's more, Xiao Changfeng carries the meaning of a true dragon.

He was naturally in awe.

"There are causes and effects in the world. Helping you is also helping me, so don't be polite!"

Xiao Changfeng's complexion had recovered a lot, and he spoke lightly at this time, not showing any signs of joy.

Tsk!

At this moment.

Mo Long's body was filled with black energy, and his aura instantly weakened.

The power of Xiao Changfeng's blood essence.

That’s it for now.

The ink dragon degenerated into an ink dragon again.

And because he used too much power, his figure gradually became illusory.

It's like it's about to turn into ashes.

"Lord True Dragon, you help me take revenge. The old dragon has nothing to offer in return. I am willing to use my little power to help your martial soul grow."

Mo Jiao didn't care at all that his figure was gradually becoming transparent.

Instead, he respectfully thanked Xiao Changfeng.

Xiao Changfeng pondered for a moment, then nodded.

"Can!"

Mo Jiao saluted respectfully again.

Then the entire figure quickly turned into a streak of ink light and flew towards Xiao Changfeng.

Eventually, he was submerged into Qinglong Wuhun.

In an instant.

The nine-meter-long Qinglong martial spirit let out a crisp and high-pitched dragon roar.

Far more pure than Mo Jiao.

Later, the Qinglong Wuhun grew in size.

It became ten meters in size!

So far.

On the Dragon-Slaying Platform, the sage of the Northern Tang Dynasty and Mo Jiaolong have been entangled in their grudges for thirty thousand years.

Completely finished!

Boom!

The sacred patterns and dragon blood disappeared, and the entire Dragon Slaying Platform suddenly shook.

Not only that.

Centered on the previous deep pit.

There are more and more cracks all around.
To be continued...