The earth trembled.
It trembled as the dark army in the distance stepped forward.
Meng Liang looked at the approaching army and couldn't help but swallow a mouthful of saliva. He looked at Xu Han and Wang Yangming beside him and felt his throat dry.
"Then what? Old Master, didn't you say before that you wanted us to leave with the Fierce Sword?" Meng Liang asked carefully.
Wang Yangming, dressed in white, floated in the night. When he heard this, he looked at Meng Liang and said calmly, "The Great Evolution Sword Technique is about advancing without stopping. If you leave earlier, you will leave without a fight. Your sword heart will be broken and your sword spirit, which has already formed into an embryonic form, will also be injured. It will be extremely difficult for you to reach the Immortal Realm."
Wang Yangming's reprimand could be said to be merciless. Meng Liang could only say embarrassedly, "I'm joking, I'm joking."
As the black army approached, the sparse starlight in the Southern Wilderness shone on the armor of the soldiers, reflecting dark rays of light. Along with their bodies, they also rushed towards the Sword Mausoleum with the majestic aura that spread out from their bodies. That aura was incomparably vast, like black clouds pressing down on the city, enveloping the entire Sword Mausoleum tightly.
Meng Liang Ji looked at them. He saw clearly that the black-armored warriors were all young men and women under the age of twenty. He could clearly remember that when they forcefully broke through Jing Xiu Pass that day, those few hundred Saint Son Saint Weapons had almost killed them all. At this moment, there were at least 50,000 people in the dark army. With such a powerful force, he had no idea how they would be able to contend against it.
Could it be that Yours Truly is going to die here today?
This thought couldn't help but arise in his heart. He turned his head to look at Xu Han beside him, wanting to find a trace of empathy with him.
However, to his disappointment, Xu Han's expression was silent at this moment, and there was no abnormality. Not only was he like this, even Qin Keqing, who was beside him, did not have any abnormality at all, even Aowu and Xuan'er were like this.
Probably because of this, Meng Liang hurriedly straightened his waist and suppressed the surging emotions in his heart. After all, as a senior brother, he couldn't compare to a junior brother, could he?
Just as Meng Liang was thinking about this, the vast army in front of him suddenly stopped. Then, a path was opened up among the soldiers. A handsome black-clothed monk walked out from the soldiers with a strong and skinny guard.
The monk looked in the direction of the Sword Mausoleum and said loudly, "I've always asked about the rumors in Jianghu. Yue Fuyao in Heavenly Battle City and the Li Mountain Sect have spread for thousands of years. If you ask who can control the ears of an ox, then the Southern Desolate Sword Mausoleum's Ink Ancient Flow!"
"This poor monk is destined to come here today. May I know if Wang Jianxian is willing to meet this poor monk?"
The Sword Mausoleum was silent in the darkness. After more than ten breaths of time, an aged and middle-aged voice suddenly sounded.
"You're a guest from afar. Why not?"
As soon as he finished speaking, a figure dressed in white suddenly escaped from the direction of the Sword Mausoleum, transforming into a streak of light that landed directly in front of the black-clothed monk.
The old man's clothes fluttered about, his sword intent washing around him, and his elegant bearing was exceptional. Just a single glance was enough to make one's heart race.
However, after the black-clothed monk sized up the old man from head to toe, a strange expression appeared in his eyes. He couldn't help but say, "I didn't expect the so-called Wang Jianxian to be such a thing."
When the old man heard this, he was not angry. He also narrowed his eyes and looked at the monk. He said, "This old man did not expect the famous Senluo Palace Hall's Hall Master to be such a thing."
Others couldn't understand the Zen Secrets in their words, and the two of them were also tacitly aware of it.
When the black-clothed monk heard this, he ignored it. He looked back and said, "Then what does Wang Jianxian think of my 80,000 strong army?"
Wang Yangming's gaze swept across the 80,000 silent-faced teenagers and girls. Finally, he shook his head, "Back then, when the Dali Dynasty destroyed the country, didn't the Li Dynasty Emperor want to turn the tide and support the building? Two hundred thousand Iron Cavalry came to our Sword Mausoleum Gate. What happened in the end?"
"Two hundred thousand white bones fell in the Southern Wilderness. A thousand years have passed and they have long since become yellow sand."
"So, 80,000 people want to break through my Sword Mausoleum…"
"I'm afraid it's not enough."
The black-clothed monk smiled faintly, "Wang Jianxian is a hero. One person can break through a million divisions. Although the people of the Central Plains have not had the chance to hear such a good story, the poor monk still knows about it."
"I have always respected the prestige of the Sword Immortal. Naturally, I won't disturb Wang Jianxiu's beauty with eighty thousand ordinary armored warriors?" The black-clothed monk said this, but the corner of his eyes turned to look at the skinny man beside him.
The man sensed the monk's gaze and nodded slightly. Then, his fingers under his sleeves jumped as if he was plucking the strings of a zither, carrying a strange pattern.
As he did so, the eyes of the eighty thousand soldiers behind him suddenly turned bloody.
Their bodies began to swell, and their mouths began to emit hoarse roars. Purple scales covered their skin, and boundless cold auras surged out of their bodies.
After several tens of breaths of time, the eighty thousand troops turned into enormous purple monsters. They kept roaring as if they wanted to vent the violent and violent aura in their bodies. Eighty thousand of these monsters stood together, and neither the aura they emitted nor their majestic appearance gave off a suffocating oppressive feeling.
Seeing this, Xu Han and the others jumped to Wang Yangming's side and looked at the monsters with serious expressions. However, their figures were so small and insignificant in front of the monster army.
At that time, the black-clothed monk bowed slightly and looked at Wang Yangming with narrowed eyes. He smiled and said, "I wonder if this 80,000 strong army can enter the Sword Immortal's magic eyes?"
"Old Master… This loser is not a loser. Why don't I kill their spirit?"
Meng Liang whispered in Wang Yangming's ear.
"How?" Wang Yangming raised his eyebrows and asked in a low voice.
Meng Liang smiled complacently and gently kicked Aowu beside Xu Han. He said, "Black Dog, aren't you going to get bigger? To scare them!"
As the Wolf King, Aowu seemed to have been greatly insulted when he heard this. He turned around and grinned at Meng Liang, as if he was about to pounce on him in the next moment. Meng Liang was instantly frightened. He could only give up this thought and turn to look at Xuan'er on Xu Han's shoulder. However, Xuan'er narrowed her eyes and glanced at him. She had the posture that I was too lazy to pay attention to you.
Meng Liang was helpless and could only restrain his thoughts. He looked at Wang Yangming and said cowardly, "Old Master… Why don't… you do it yourself…"
Wang Yangming glared at him fiercely, but in the next moment, a burning divine light lit up in the old man's eyes.
He wore a white robe, and the sword intent around his body resisted.
His body suddenly rose.
Clang!
A crisp sword cry suddenly sounded from the sword mausoleum behind him. A long sword rushed into the sky like a call from the sword mausoleum. A vast sword intent surged out like a river. A bright sword light also lit up from the sword's body, shaking it like a dazzling star.
Meng Liang was stunned. Not only did he curl his lips, he said, "This posture isn't bad, but a person can't compare to 80,000."
Meng Liang's words came to an abrupt halt at that moment.
Clang! ! !
An even clearer sword cry rose once more, followed by another sound. Soon, the sword cry gathered like a sea, echoing throughout the Southern Wilderness endlessly.
Afterwards, tens of thousands of divine swords rose from the mausoleum of the sword. The sword intent surged like a tide, rising and falling like clouds. The sword light was as bright as stars, illuminating the night like day.
"My Southern Desolate Sword Mausoleum has guarded the Vicious Sword for ten thousand years."
"One person is one sword, and one sword is also one person."
"Ladies and gentlemen…"
Wang Yangming's head of white hair fluttered as he said this. His voice was like a yellow bell, causing people to be shocked.
As he spoke, countless figures appeared on the tens of thousands of swords. They were either men or women, old or young, but without exception, the sword intent around them was incomparably pure.
When they appeared, they all held their swords in their hands. The sword light shining on the mausoleum of the sword became a little brighter, almost so blinding that it was difficult for people to look directly at it.
After that, tens of thousands of sword spirits were silent. The swords in their hands were placed on their chests. They said to Wang Yangming, "Yes!"
"In the name of the ancestors of the Sword Mausoleum, take the Grand Dao of Life as your command."
"Junior Wang Yangming dares to ask all of you to join me in protecting the Sword Mausoleum!"
As soon as these words were said, the tens of thousands of sword spirits that were bathed in the sword light all turned cold. Divine light flashed in their eyes as they answered in unison.
"Chengjun, you dare not die! The sword is in the mausoleum, the sword is dead!"
The voice gathered on the Sword Mausoleum and resounded throughout the Southern Wilderness.
Just like the dazzling sword light that filled the sky, his aura was burning like the sun in the sky!
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