Chapter 356

How long is half an hour?

Actually, I don't even have ten minutes.

If you make a pot of tea, the water may have just boiled.

If you draw a picture, the paint may have just been adjusted.

If you use it to write a book, the pen may not touch the snow-white rice paper.

In the floating scene, even you just took a nap and were stunned.

Just then, the neighbor's cat squeezed through the narrow stone crack.

Step on the cobblestone path and lie in your arms in the gentle sun.

You played with it, brushed its warm hair, and listened to its comfortable hum.

Such a half day is almost over.

It's too short to think about it for half an hour.

But in this short half an hour.

For song Qingshu and Xia Houli, it is undoubtedly dangerous to the extreme.

The water surface is full of the sword meaning and wind cut by song Qingshu.

Among them, there is the calm of blue sea and sky.

With towering peaks, it is steady.

There is confusion and sadness shrouded in clouds.

Each knife looks very simple, but when they come in the air, they are invincible and terrible.

But can't help but make people tremble and sweat.

The frozen water surface not only has sword meaning and sword wind.

And that simple little gun idea.

Skimming is skimming, and pressing is pressing.

Xia Houli's dark iron gun was like a painting brush of a national scholar in his hand.

Innumerable simple and direct drawings outline a magnificent human beauty.

Bursts of light were shining at the edge of the iron gun.

The sound was clear and loud, shaking on the glacier.

Every move of song Qingshu and Xia Houli was like beating iron, and there was a toothy metal explosion.

A sparkle splashed out in people's eyes.

"Iron shot, Jiuyou stab!"

Xia Houli roared, and then stabbed the iron gun in his hand at Song Qingshu's chest.

The iron gun seemed to turn into a soul grabbing and life-threatening Jiuyou God of death in an instant.

Brush

There was a roar of wind piercing in the air, and the iron gun was very fast.

However, in one tenth of the rest time, the tip of the gun was about to touch song Qingshu's body.

Electro optic flint room.

The black eyes of song Qingshu suddenly turned brown and yellow.

He took a faint look at the iron gun from the wind:

"Kun Yi sleeps the immortal, sleeps!"

As song Qingshu finished reciting this sentence in his heart.

Between heaven and earth, there was an inexplicable smell wrapped around the tip of the gun.

The artistic conception of Kun is like a strong iron chain, which tightly locks Xia Houli's iron gun.

The dark iron gun was frozen in the air, as if frozen by the cold wind.

No matter how hard Xia Houli pushed forward, he couldn't stab an inch in front of song Qingshu with an iron gun.

The iron gun kept humming, and the gun trembled uncontrollably.

With Xia Houli pushing desperately, the dark iron gun in his hand actually gradually bent down.

It can be seen what terrible power there is on this dark iron gun.

"Ha!"

Song Qingshu used the vitality of heaven and earth to lock Xia Houli's iron gun.

It's like resisting the huge rocks rolling down the mountain with your hands alone.

He only resisted for a moment, and a cold sweat came out of his head and his clothes were wet.

But now Xia Houli holds an iron gun and the empty door in front of him opens. How could song Qingshu miss this opportunity?

Although song Qingshu's body could not move because it was competing with Xia Houli's iron gun.

But he also has hell platform!

So song Qingshu gave a cold cry, and hell platform went up and down in the void behind him.

So song Qingshu thought for a moment, and the hell platform had broken the wind and hit Xia Hou with a cold wind.

"Gravity ring! Ten times the gravity bonus! "

The shape of hell platform soared with the wind, but it grew into a hill in half a breath.

Just when the hell platform was about to hit Xia Houli.

The emerald ring on Song Qingshu's right finger exudes red brilliance.

The hell platform is illuminated by red light, and the heavy feeling from it becomes more real.

Although Xia Houli hasn't touched the iron fist on the hell platform yet, he seems to feel the extraordinary of the hell platform:

"Very strong! Very heavy! "

Xia Houli looked at the hell platform he hit and muttered a few words of admiration.

Song Qingshu smiled:

"If you dare catch it, you will know that it is stronger and heavier than you think!"

Hell platform is a pride of song Qingshu.

There are countless corpses under it.

In fact, song Qingshu just had countless means to attack Xia Houli.

Although song Qingshu's figure was locked in place.

But his sword can still travel thousands of miles through the air.

His strong killing intention can still launch a deadly blow.

But song Qingshu chose hell platform.

With this alone, we can see song Qingshu's confidence in hell platform.

In the face of song Qingshu's self-confident and proud record of hell, Xia Houli not only praised.

I really feel the shadow of death.

So what did he do?

His iron gun was locked by song Qingshu. He could not advance a point or retreat a moment.

All he had left was his fist.

Think of it here.

Xia Houli loosened the iron gun firmly held in his hand, crisp and crisp.

Xia Hou's face was still smiling when the iron gun left his hand.

Because now he has only one method left, this method should be the best method.

Xia Houli clenched his fist as big as a sea bowl, and the green tendons on his left arm burst like hemp ropes.

"Song Qingshu!"

Xia Houli roared song Qingshu's name, then smashed the hell platform with an iron fist.

Although Xia Houli's iron fist is big, it can be compared with hell platform.

It seems so small, just like the fine stones on the mountains collide with the mountains.

Dang!

A whine!

Xia Houli's left hand bone was broken, and the bone in his palm was broken into slag foam.

The hell platform was also deeply concave and flew away towards the sky.

Song Qingshu felt the vibration from the hell platform, and a sense of irritability came from his chest. His face was pale and almost vomited blood first.

In such a moment, song Qingshu's brown eyes became dark like night again.

Xia Houli felt that there was no longer the suppression and entanglement of the vitality of heaven and earth on the iron gun.

Regardless of the pain from his left palm, he directly stretched out his right hand to hold the iron gun.

He roared like a wounded lion, raised an iron gun and smoked song Qingshu like a stick.

Song Qingshu raised the purple blood soft sword and carried the infinite power of the gun.

However, with an exciting sound.

Song Qingshu's sword edge was photographed on the ice of the river together with song Qingshu.

Pop!

The ice smashed into a big hole, and song Qingshu's figure no longer knew where to go.

The cold wind on the ice blew Xia Houli's hair, his naked chest and his indifferent eyes.