Chapter 419, Sword God Falls!

If your eyes are sharp enough, if your eyes are Mo Qingdi's eyes, you will know what a magical sword this is.

At least in Mo Qingdi's eyes, this sword is not static or ordinary.

The sword is not a branch, but a real sword. It is a peerless sword.

It is trembling gently, because of fear, because of excitement. Perhaps it is because of its birth.

It was the sword shaking, not the hands of the Qianye War Department. He stabbed tens of millions of swords, and under any circumstances, his hand holding the sword never trembled.

The sword body has life, and it has independent consciousness.

It aimed at the old alcoholic's eyebrows, eyes, throat, and also at his chest, heart or abdomen.

It can even attack the plate and directly stab the old alcoholic 29 acupoints and the 72 acupoints of the big and small legs.

It covers all the fatal vital points on the old alcoholic body, and it also covers the large and small acupoints on the old alcoholic body.

The sword name is unintentional!

In other words, at the moment of the final attack, even the Qianye War Ministry itself did not know where it would stab.

It's just a few seconds, maybe a shorter time.

You can't blink once, you can't breathe once, your heart hasn't beaten. From the previous heartbeat to the next heartbeat, the gap between this middle - a shorter time than this.

Qianye's War Department disappeared from the spot and stabbed the old drunkard in the throat with a sword.

Yes, at the last moment, he finally locked in the goal he wanted.

throat!

A sword stabbed the throat!

A sword to be named a marquis!

The old drunkard finally moved.

He rushed towards Qianye War Department with a long stick in his hand. He left a afterimage on the spot, and his body turned into nothingness.

In an ugly and very rude manner, he held up the long stick in his hand and stabbed towards Qianba War Ministry.

The wooden stick didn't even have a sharp spear head.

Their bodies passed by, or two shadows that could not be seen clearly passed by.

It was just a change of position, but it was just a change of a pattern of getting along. It changed from standing opposite to standing with its back to standing with its back.

The Chiba Ministry of War stood at the position where the old drunkard was standing just now, and the old drunkard also stood in the footprints of the Chiba Ministry of War.

Then, everything is still.

Their bodies gradually became clear and became two living bodies instead of a blurry phantom.

The gray sky is like someone's black face, and the white world is so dreamy.

Two men with wide robes and big sleeves stood in a separate and narrow courtyard. Because of the small courtyard, their bodies looked strangely tall and majestic, just like the king's war god in ancient times.

The wooden branches in Qianye's Ministry of War were dripping blood below, one drop, two drops, three drops - the red blood slowly melted a piece of snow on the ground.

The old drunkard's gray robe's chest was stained with blood. When the old drunkard thought his sword would stab at his throat, Qianye's War Department actually attacked the chest with another move.

With such a fast speed, there are very few people in this world who can do it.

The wooden stick in the old drunkard's hand flew away and flew towards the wooden door of the small courtyard. It was like a spear pierced in the middle of the wooden door panel. Half of the stick disappeared, leaving only a short piece exposed in the yard.

"Why?" asked the old drunkard in a heavy voice.

"I lost to you twenty years ago." Qianye War Ministry said softly. His voice was gentle and gentle, as if he was reluctant to leave, as if he was relieved.

“Is this the reason?”

"Twenty years later, I lost to Fang Yan."

“Is this the reason?”

"Huaxia is too powerful." Qianye's Ministry of War sighed and said, "Chinese warriors are too powerful. Twenty years ago, I was ambitious to conquer China with the East Sword and I am the power of the East Sword. Unfortunately, I was forced back by you before I took that step."

"Twenty years later, I mustered up the courage to advance east again. The result was even more severe than the last time. I was defeated by an unknown junior in Huacheng - Fang Yan is a martial arts genius, and how strange a genius like Fang Yan is in China? Even a young girl who is familiar with Fang Yan, with her talent and qualifications, will not achieve her future success in the future--"

"I still have hope in your hands. I hope to come with a sword in the future and wash away the shame. But when I see them, I am truly desperate. There are too many talents in China, and the young people in China are too powerful - such young men and girls are hateful that I have no one in the East. There is no one in the East. God treats us too unfair."

"I have always been curious about what kind of magic power the land of China has, and why can we feed our children so well and so courageous? I am alive, and they regard me as a god and as the hope of Eastern warriors."

"I know very well in my heart that I am not their hope. I will only bring them illusory psychological comfort and a short dose of psychotropic agent. This psychological comfort and psychotropic agent can deceive them and numb them - to make them still have expectations and fantasies. I believe that one day, one day I will bring them victory and glory."

"The consequences are too heavy. You fight dozens of islands in the East with one sword, and you are incredible. You have completely stepped on the dignity of the Eastern warriors. You have made the Chinese Qinglong, but no one has emerged from the Eastern warriors. Everyone hides in their own small home and licks the wounds - our generation has completely lost, what about the next generation?"

"When a young man like Fang Yan really grew up, when he became an extremely sharp sword like you, when he also did what you did back then, and broke into the East with one sword - at that time, who could resist the young man in the East? Who could be the enemy of it?"

"My generation lost has brought fear to the younger generation of warriors. If the next generation of warriors loses, what kind of psychological impact will it have on the next generation of warriors? Every time they lose, their morale will fall. If they lose three times in a row, what is the morale? Where is the talent? Who will protect my people? Who will guard our country's gate?"

Qianye Warring States coughed gently while covering his throat, and the bright red blood dyed his palms red.

Blood flowed out from the gaps of his fingers, drawing a beautiful abstract picture.

"Don't underestimate the enemy, I really envy you - I envy you for being born in this vast China, I envy you for having this black soil under your feet. I envy you for being talented, I envy you for being proud and fearless - it would be great if Fang Yan was a Chinese. How good if Fang Yan was a Chinese? In that case, why would I go to this dead end?"

"Why is this?" the old drunkard sighed. "Only by living can you see a longer future. Only by living can you see a longer-term future. Living - is the most important thing. From the Chinese Qinglong to the drunkard waste today, the tendons of your hand are cut off and there is no hope for reviving. The woman I love most abandons you, causing your heart to fall into the mud and fall into hell forever. One day of awakening, you will feel pain for a day. Thinking once, you will be sad once. Even a poor person like me is alive. If I want to die, I don't know how many times will I die?"

"You are alive because you still have thoughts." Qianye War Ministry said softly: I haven't seen you for many years, but I didn't expect that my old friend who was so romantic and famous in China would be in such a state of decline. "Your meridians are cut off because you believe it will eventually break through the cage. The woman you love most abandons you, because you believe that she will come back one day or she has been there all the time. I am really hopeless when I am alive. Twenty and twenty years, how many twenty years can I have? In the next twenty years, when I am gray-haired, will I still have the courage to cross the east with my sword again to challenge the heroes of China? At that time, I was afraid that I wouldn't even be able to hold my sword?"

"I am alive and cannot save the Eastern martial arts. Only when I die can they be completely desperate." Qianye's Ministry of War said with a strong voice. He believed in the future he expected. "Only when people are most desperate, they can burst out potential that cannot be imagined by the world. I believe that millions of Eastern martial artists, I look forward to their future. I know that countless young talents like Fang Yan will grow among them - only that is the rise of the East and the revival of the Eastern martial arts."

"What are your regrets?"

"Repent?" Qianye War Ministry thought about it and said, "I hope I will not be praised by others to the altar in the next life. Because, after going up, I will never be able to come down again. I just want to be a swordsman."

Qianye's body slowly knelt on the ground, and then lay flat on his limbs in the snow nest.

The stick passed through his belly, leaving a dark hole there.

The white clothes on his body were dyed red by blood, and the white snow on the ground was dyed red by blood. The white clothes and white snow became red by red snow.

Qianye's Ministry of War opened his eyes and looked at the sky above his head, saying, "We don't have such land in the East, so I let myself be buried here - I turned myself into a handful of dust here, bless our people with more athletes, and bless my Eastern martial arts prosperity."

"Please forgive my selfishness." Chiba War Ministry said with a chuckling. "Because only death in your hands is the real relief for me."

"I forgive you." The old drunkard said in a warm voice: "The strong are lonely, and Fang Yan also needs to be tempered by his opponent."

"We have said that whoever wins will toast whom." Qianba War Ministry said with a smile. This smile comes from the heart, warm and peaceful.

The old drunkard walked to the corner of the wall, picked up a large jar and raised his head to pour it on.

His head and face were filled with wine, and his stomach was filled with wine.

He poured the remaining half of the jar of strong wine next to the head of the Chiba War Department. The Chiba War Department closed his eyes with relief when he smelled the rich aroma of the wine.
Chapter completed!