Daqin storyteller: I have become a sword fairy all the way

As soon as Ying Zheng raised his hand, the long sword was pulled out from Genghis Khan's chest and flew back into his hand.

He looked at the Dayuan soldiers who kept dying in Xianyang City, and he knew that this group of mortals would not last long, even if there were so many of them, it would only take a while longer to kill them.

He flew and sat on the wall of Xianyang Palace, looking boredly at the soldiers of the Yuan Dynasty who kept dying below.

The soldiers of Dayuan also saw the scene of Khan being nailed to the city wall with a long sword piercing his heart, and their morale was greatly reduced. Some soldiers who were psychologically weak even threw away their blades and ran away in a panic.

At this time, Ying Zheng looked at the piled up corpses on the ground and said to himself, "It's time."

He stands up, fingers outstretched, sketching in the air.

As he sketched with his fingertips, the spiritual energy floating in the air condensed and condensed into lines where his fingertips passed.

After a few breaths, he outlined an obscure pattern in the air.

And those black qi occupying the body of the Dayuan warriors felt what Ying Zheng sketched in the air one after another. They raised their heads excitedly, watching the pattern gather and tamp down in the air bit by bit.

When Yingzheng drew the magic circle, the hidden figures outside Xianyang City moved, and dozens of figures sprang out from the forest. Xianyang city of corpses.

One of them said: "Master, we must not allow these monsters to form magic circles!"

The person who was honored as the head of the sect stood with his hands behind his back while stepping on the flying sword.He looked almost seventy years old, with a white beard and furrowed face, but his eyes were bright and powerful.

The sect leader stretched out his hand and stroked his white beard, breathed out his true energy from his dantian, and shouted loudly: "Zhuzi dare you!"

Ying Zheng raised his head and looked at the sky above the city wall. The next second he laughed loudly and said, "You lingering things have survived to this day, hahaha, today is really a double blessing!"

The head of the sect didn't talk nonsense, he galloped away with flying swords under his feet, killing Ying Zheng with bursts of light.

And the people around the headman also took action one after another, offering all kinds of strange exercises, none of which seemed to be the way of the world.

Ying Zheng sneered, and moved forward with the Ding Qin sword in his hand, and then those Dayuan warriors who were occupied by the black energy also made moves one after another.

For a moment, the two forces merged and collided, and finally exploded into Taos of aura.

The sect master frowned, closed his eyes tightly, raised his two fingers, the fingertips flickered, and the flying sword flying around him suddenly changed into countless flying swords in the sky.

The head of the sect pointed down, and the flying swords that filled the sky turned into a rain of swords, washing over the entire Xianyang.

But although the number of flying swords is large, the quality does not seem to be high. A lot of black air blocked the attack of the flying sword, let alone Ying Zheng.

"Master, I'll come to help you!"

For a moment, dozens of people around the head of the sect took action one after another, and the sword rain all over the sky was even better. The sword rain pierced through the flesh of a lot of black energy. They escaped from the flesh, but were still pierced by the rain of swords all over the sky , escaped and died.

Ying Zheng was also facing the rain of swords all over the sky, and was also tired of resisting. For a while, a gap was exposed, and a flying sword went through the defense and went straight to the magic circle just outlined behind him.

Ying Zheng turned around and saw the flying sword that broke through the defense, and he cried out inwardly.

And the head of the sect also opened his eyes at this time, and the flying swords all over the sky merged into one, and the countless flying swords turned into phantoms, merging onto the flying sword that passed through Ying Zheng's defense.

Ying Zheng turned around and chased after the flying sword, but it was too late. The flying sword was so fast that it cut off the magic circle drawn by the volley.

Seeing that the magic circle was chopped off, Ying Zheng shouted angrily, "You self-proclaimed nobles! You have been dead for thousands of years, and you still have a group of descendants to stop us!"

With a wave of the head's finger, the flying sword turned around and flew back to the head's feet.

"Haha, I thought how strong the monks would be when the aura was abundant thousands of years ago, and it turned out to be at this level!" The headmaster laughed.

Ying Zheng gritted his teeth and said, "Junior, I have been suppressed in that dilapidated tomb for too long. Otherwise, with your cultivation, I can kill you just by looking at me!"

The headman smiled and said: "What are you talking about? If you really have that strength, why was it broken by my sword?"

Ying Zheng didn't speak, but directly took the Ding Qin sword and charged at the head of the sect.

The head's face darkened, and he whispered: "Everyone, don't be careless. He just wanted to maintain the formation, and his strength was greatly reduced. Now he has no worries, so he must not underestimate the enemy!"

As soon as he finished speaking, the head of the female disciple who was standing next to him and nodding just now was beheaded by a cold light.

That Yingzheng looked like a madman, holding the Dingqin sword, charged and killed among this group of monks, the speed and sharpness of the sword made it difficult for these closed monks who had lived in the mountains for a long time and had almost no actual combat experience.

"Run! Otherwise, we'll all die here!" a frightened monk shouted.

But before he finished speaking, Ying Zheng had already stepped in front of him, pinching his head with his blood-stained hands.

Before he could scream, his head was smashed to pieces by Ying Zheng.

The female cultivator standing beside the monk was frightened into a lunatic and screamed after being splashed with red and white things from the broken head of the monk.

"Noisy!"

As soon as Yingzheng raised his hand, the Dingqin sword in his hand flipped over, and cut off the woman by the waist, and the internal organs were scattered all over the ground.

Ying Zheng looked down at the female cultivator who was desperately stuffing her intestines back into her stomach before dying.

He asked, "Do you want to live?"

The female cultivator nodded frantically. In her heart, the fear of death had completely overcome all rationality. Apart from living, she didn't care about the rest.

Ying Zheng showed sympathy at this time, leaned down and said in a low voice: "Do you know that thousands of years ago, I also showed an expression like yours. I hope someone can save me and let me live."

"But the gate is still closed after all." As he spoke, the Ding Qin sword in Ying Zheng's hand pierced the nun's chest bit by bit, and finally the words fell, and the long sword pierced into the heart.

The headmaster looked at his disciple's body, and he was about to burst into tears. He completely ignored the so-called identity and airs, picked up the long sword like crazy, and killed Ying Zheng.

Ying Zheng looked at him and said with a sneer, "Death? I won't kill you!"

With a flash of Ying Zheng's figure, he grabbed the sword-holding hand of the sect master, and with a force in his hand, he forcibly crushed the master's wrist.

The headmaster howled in pain, the flying sword in his hand fell to the ground, and beads of sweat appeared on his forehead due to the severe pain.