Click!
The sword in Ghost Handsome's hand was crushed by the Blood Poison King with his bare hands.
Immediately, the blood-red palm was suddenly photographed, and it crashed down like a mountain, shaking the world.
When the palm fell, Ghost Shuai vomited blood, and was shot and flew out, and even the black armor he was wearing was shattered.
"A waste of time, it's all slaughtered." The Blood Poison King glanced around and waved his hand at will.
The cultivator of the Yan family, who was like a wolf like a tiger outside, rushed in immediately and killed anyone he saw.
The screams, screams, and the sound of the blade entering the body resounded one after another, chaotic and rather harsh.
The Blood Poison King turned a deaf ear to Fang Ying.
"I chased and killed all the way, and finally caught you. You sneaked into my Yan's house, do you really think we didn't notice at all!" The Blood Poison King approached step by step.
Fang Ying's fair neck was already covered with jet-black veins.
When she saw the King of Blood Poison approaching, she shot directly without saying a word, and the sharp sword in her hand pierced through the void and stabbed straight.
"It's ridiculous, it's not honest to be poisoned by my blood." The King of Blood Poison sneered, disapproving at all.
This notorious poison-using king is also a master of the realm of the realm. Seeing Fang Ying killing him, he raised his hand and pressed it down with disapproval.
The sharp sword was bounced off, but Fang Ying did not intend to fight the Blood Poison King. With a flash, she actually bypassed the burly existence and turned to leave.
The light and agile body turned into a few black shadows, and immediately rushed into the crowd of cultivators of the Yan family behind.
Fang Ying herself is a master of the realm of the world master. Although she is poisoned now, facing ordinary monks, she is still like a tiger entering a flock and rushing to kill at will.
Soon, a gap was opened in the formation of the Yan family cultivator.
"If you let you go like this, I won't be involved in the Eighteen Nether Realms anymore."
The Blood Poison King sneered behind him, watching Fang Ying's illusory voice, and suddenly recited a long and tedious incantation aloud.
The pitch of the incantation fluctuated, and a bunch of blood-colored runes seemed to have life, sprang from the soles of his feet, and instantly flew to Fang Ying's side.
Fang Ying's body trembled immediately, and she was actually frozen in place, with thousands of blood lines under her feet, as if a shackle was holding her tightly.
This is the blood poison curse.
A person who has been poisoned by blood is, to a certain extent, equivalent to the puppet of the blood poison king.
Fang Ying turned around, her long hair was scattered, her eyes shone with cold light, and a group of purple brilliance flashed in her hands, and the pressure of magic radiated out, and she was about to launch a counterattack immediately.
But the Blood Poison King seemed to have known that she would do this for a long time, raised his hand a little, and said to Fang Ying: "Stop!"
All Fang Ying's movements suddenly became heavy and boundless, like sinking into the sand.
"I wanted to make you a blood slave, but the Elder Hall is very interested in you. You are lucky if you don't fall into my hands." The Blood Poison King strode forward, and a talisman was instantly attached to Fang Ying's on the forehead.
"Oops."
Fang Ying was in despair in her heart, her whole body was imprisoned by the talisman, and it was only wishful thinking to escape.
"Okay, I'll take people back, and you will slaughter the rest." The Blood Poison King waved his hand casually.
For a while, the screams and screams around him became louder.
The old priest, who was already old, was hit by dozens of knives in a row, and was paralyzed beside the statue, covered in blood.
The blood splashed and fell on the statue of the god of the underworld.
"God, please manifest your holy spirit!" the old priest uttered his final cry.
"Hahaha, old thing, the Underworld God is gone, it's useless even if you plead again." The cultivators of the Yan family laughed and raised their butcher knives.