Cui Jing was so angry that he roared and flew towards Jian Wushuang again.
This time, he stopped dodging and raised his sword to fight.
Jian Wushuang, who had already controlled his sword intent to the highest level, was confident that as long as Cui Jing didn't just want to die, he wouldn't be able to hurt him at all.
The more they fought, the more frightened Cui Jing became. Although he was eager to win, he was not a reckless person. How could he not realize that Jian Wushuang, who was fighting against him, did not use his Yanli at all, and was able to fight with a real sword in his hand.
Come and go.
What kind of strength is this to achieve this step?
The real sword stabbed continuously, forcing Cui Jing to retreat step by step. At the same time, Jian Wushuang suddenly surrendered, changed the hilt of the sword, and suddenly drew the blade of the real sword in his hand on his body.
There was a burst of pain in his belly, and then Cui Jing's entire body flew out and fell heavily to the ground.
Suddenly, under the transparent ground, thousands of ferocious ghosts broke free from the sea of blood, all clinging to the transparent stone slab with strange cries, as if waiting for food.
Jian Wushuang frowned slightly and took half a step back.
Cui Jing covered his chest, sat up from the ground, and looked at him with a complicated expression.
He understood that this situation that seemed to be resisting by the chambers was all an illusion. Jian Wushuang did not even use his full strength from beginning to end.
He lost like this, which was both inexplicable and also seemed destined.
There was deathly silence in the palace, and at this moment, something strange happened quietly.
With Jian Wushuang as the center, the ground suddenly cracked, and fine cracks spread directly to more than half of the hall.
Then, it collapsed.
The collapse was so fast that no one could react. Jian Wushuang, Chen Qing and others all fell into the sea of blood along with the rubble.
Countless ferocious ghosts cheered, like a carnival feast, lying on their bodies layer by layer, dragging them into the depths of the sea of blood.
Looking at the collapsed ground in front of him, Cui Jing looked back subconsciously.
Lady Sha had arrived behind him at some point, holding a skull scepter and calmly looking at the sea of blood churning under the pit.
"Sister, are they okay?" Cui Jing swallowed his throat and asked.
She didn't speak, but turned around slowly after a moment, "After half a stick of incense, drag them up and place them in the walled city."
Cui Jing nodded. Although he didn't know what she wanted, he followed the order.
The time it takes to burn half a stick of incense may not be long, but it may be short.
Cui Jing stared at the movement in the sea of blood, preparing to pull Jian Wushuang and others out in an emergency.
At this moment, the boundless sea of blood was churning, and the extremely rich blood turned into ghosts, like fish snatching food, suppressing Jian Wushuang and others who fell into the sea of blood.
The causes and consequences and massacres that he tried so hard to avoid finally came in droves.
All they could see was extremely rich blood red. Jian Wushuang and the five others were all helpless and could only float in the sea of blood helplessly.
If their strength is not damaged, these resentments and evil will not be able to corrode any of them.
But now, even Di Qing is helpless. He is reincarnated, and his current strength is not even as good as that of Spring and Autumn.
A giant monster with evil thoughts stretched out its palm from the depths of the blood sea and dragged them into the seabed bit by bit.
The sea of blood also gradually calmed down from the initial boiling and boiling.
After half a stick of incense, Cui Jing jumped into the sea of blood alone. Looking at the abyss-like scene in front of him, he waved his hand.
Immediately, the sea of blood was separated by a natural chasm.
The ugly giant monster transformed from countless evil thoughts and ferocious ghosts then emerged from the chasm.
The palm, which was more than ten feet in size, slowly spread out, and Jian Wushuang and others, who had already passed out, appeared in Cui Jing's eyes.
"Who are these guys? Although they all look extremely weak, why do they have such a breathtaking aura?" Cui Jing frowned. The confrontation with Jian Wushuang not long ago clearly left a lasting impression on him.
Very deep impression.
"Are they also monks who do not belong to this continent? Or are they, like those bald men, visitors from outside the world?"
Cui Jing waved his hand and took Jian Wushuang and others from the palm of the evil monster. After careful investigation and finding no useful information, he carried them away.
The entire sea of blood returned to its miserable state.
…
Blood red, blood red enough to corrode the heart, spread over, soaking everything.
This kind of negative influence, filled with evil thoughts, despair, dead silence, and resentment, will infiltrate the heart of the Immortal even if he is not careful, causing inexplicable cause and effect, and massacres.
Jian Wushuang suddenly sat up from the ground, cold sweat pouring from his temples.
As far as the eye can see, there is no sea of blood, only a quiet and lonely bluestone road.
"Weren't we still in that sea of blood just now? Why now... is it an illusion?"
After detecting the integration of the internal energy and the outside world, Jian Wushuang determined that this place was not an illusion.
He stood up slowly, stood on the bluestone road where only two people could walk side by side, and looked around.
The hazy sky glowed with the smoky blue color of haze after rain.
On both sides of this bluestone road, there are deep waters where lotus buds have just emerged.
Looking into the distance, the hazy distance and the deep waters are connected, giving off an indescribable sense of ethereal and illusory pain.
And Jian Wushuang stood in the middle of the bluestone road. In front of him and behind him were the unknowns leading to nowhere.
Everything here is extremely silent, as if it were a painting, full of unreality.
But his face remained calm. After thinking for a moment, he took steps and moved forward slowly.
A long wind blew from an unknown source, blowing the lotus leaves densely covered in the deep waters on both sides.
At this time of year, the lotus flowers have not yet bloomed, and the huge lotus buds are almost sinking into the water.
Jian Wushuang walked slowly among them, feeling something strange in his heart.
He was sure that the scene he was seeing now was the weirdest place he had ever come to during his practice.
This kind of weirdness is not the kind of terror when faced with life and death, nor the powerlessness of facing an enemy that cannot be resisted, nor the fear of the unknown.
Rather, it is a strange discomfort caused by some subtlety that is completely different from cognition, unconsciously.
It's like a nightmare I had when I was a child long ago, or a confused rant when I was seriously ill.
This kind of place shouldn't really exist, or in other words, this kind of place is transformed by the mind.
Jian Wushuang remained calm. Although he had understood something in his heart, he still walked forward slowly as before.
Under this strange and hazy sky, there is only a bluestone road extending into the infinite distance.
On the deep, bitter and cold water, the desolation and loneliness reached the extreme.