Chapter 1069

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it's like before a hurricane on the sea.

All around the air became condensed as if it had stopped flowing.

The small animals that used to chirp in the surrounding wild woods seemed to hibernate at this time, and could not hear any sound.

Silence.

Now Yang Zimei has a deep understanding of this word.

She told Howard to stay inside, opened the driver's door and walked out.

The scarlet moye sword in her hand was tightly held in her hand. With her nervous mood, it trembled slightly and made a low chirp.

And the left hand on the small tower, also slightly in the color, seems to feel the changes around.

A cloud of black clouds began to roll out of the depression a hundred meters ahead.

The cloud was thick and thick, like a big black mushroom, rolling in the direction of Yang Zimei.

Yang Zimei's eyesight is good, but he can't see clearly what is in the black cloud.

Death isn't a dark cloud, is it?

Yang Zimei thought suspiciously, the heartstrings began to tighten, and the palms of the sword were slightly sweating.

It's about thirty meters away.

The black cloud suddenly changed

A man dressed in a black wide sleeve robe slowly stepped out of the dark clouds with empty steps. His black hair, which grew to the heel of his feet, floated freely behind him, giving a strong visual effect.

Compared with his black robe, he had a black sickle in his white hand.

The black air on the sickle is so thick that it can't be opened for thousands of years.

His face, which had been concealed by his long hair, suddenly showed up.

Seeing that half of the beautiful face looks like a pale jade face carved with a knife, Yang Zimei's original vigilance is relieved in an instant, and the tension turns into joy.

"Snow lake, is that you?"

The moye sword in her hand fell down and quickly stepped forward, calling softly.

The man in black looks down at her

Seeing his pupils, Yang Zimei was slightly surprised.

The pupil of his eye, which was exposed outside his long hair, was even darker than the sickle on his hand. It was as black as a black hole, and it wanted to swallow up everything in the world.

Snow lake's eyes are not like this.

His eyes were clear.

but as like as two peas, the half face is just like snow lake.

"Snow lake?"

She tried again and asked in a low voice.

The scythe on the black robed man's hand rose up and said, "stop death! Die

His voice was not like the gentle and cool sounds of nature of the snow lake, but like a metal frosting, low, hoarse and cold, as if from the eighteen layers of hell, chilling.

Yang Zimei's courage is not small, but hear this sound, still can't help but get goose bumps, spine cold cold.

Death?

Not a snow lake?

How does it look like a snow lake?

Her original moye sword was lifted up again.

The spirit of death is extremely powerful, and the magic power is beyond her imagination.

She knew she was no match for him at all.

But I also know that death has its rules.

The sickle on his hand is used to harvest the soul, but it cannot be harvested at will.

When she saw her lift the moye sword, the sickle on death's hand moved slightly. Before she could respond to it, the moye sword in her hand fell to the ground in an instant, making a clanking noise with dissatisfaction

Yang Zimei looks at her palm.

Before moye sword fell from her hand, she didn't even feel the effect of any external force.

The sword suddenly fell to the ground like a void.

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