Relying on the system to become a fantasy boss

Stepping into the sword mound, Zhao Yang was shocked.

This sword mound is not in the northern world!

This is a barren and illusory world, completely different from the snow-covered landforms of the Northern Territory.

"Is this a small world, or a realm after the fall of Da Neng?" Zhao Yang whispered to himself.

No one responded.

Nodding slightly, he understood that the ancestor Tianhong sensed the danger and did not come out.

Then, there is a great possibility that this is the realm after the fall of Da Neng.

In such a world, those powerful remnant souls, and the creatures that exist in this world are all extremely dangerous.

Walking slowly along the barren gravel beach, there is only a faint light in the sky, but there are no stars and scorching sun.

Just walking forward in such a boring way, Zhao Yang didn't know how long he walked.

But the number of times he sat down to refresh was 21 times.

"Om-"

Just when he No.20 was sitting cross-legged for the second time, there was a sword whistle, and a fiery red long sword flew towards him, piercing straight into his face.

Seeing the long sword coming, Zhao Yang showed a faint smile on his face.

He raised his hand a little and touched the tip of the long sword.

"when--"

The long sword fell to the ground, and the flickering red light melted the gravel on the ground.

This is a powerful fire-attribute sword, judging from its appearance, it is at least a middle-grade magic weapon.

With a relaxed expression on Zhao Yang's face, he stretched out his hand, ready to grab the hilt of the sword.

Just when his hand was about to touch the hilt of the sword, he suddenly withdrew it, stood up, turned around and left.

He hadn't taken three steps, and the long sword that was lying flat on the ground jumped up with a buzzing sound, making a "squeaky" sound.

"boom--"

The whole world was instantly surrounded by fire clouds, and the blazing flames wanted to melt Zhao Yang.

"call--"

A faint gray mask rose around Zhao Yang's body, blocking all the fire clouds.

"Boy, old man Lihuo, who has studied fire swordsmanship for 80 years, you don't like it?" The fiery red long sword flew up, hovered in front of Zhao Yang, and made an old voice.

On the long sword, an illusory figure emerged.

She was dressed in a fiery red robe, with a Chinese character face that was not angry and majestic, and her beard and hair were also fiery red.The old man stared at Zhao Yang, as if the spiritual light in his eyes was about to shine through him.

Zhao Yang admitted that he was wrong.

This old man turned out to be a coercive existence.This small realm is where he fell after he transformed into a dao.

Although the old man has only a remnant soul now, he still has the power of life and death in this small world.

However, if Zhao Yang wanted to choose this long sword and carry it on his back, it was not his intention.

Zhao Yang didn't want to become a sword bearer until he found a truly powerful sword.

"Since the seniors favor it, the juniors are naturally disrespectful. It's just that this fate is not up to the juniors." After Zhao Yang's voice fell, he bowed, reached out and grabbed the hilt of the fiery red long sword, and closed his eyes.

The red-haired old man looked at Zhao Yang, his eyes flickered, and then disappeared.

The choice of the sword bearer in Daxue Mountain is two-way.

Although more young disciples were not favored by the seniors in the sword mound and had no chance to become sword bearers, there were also disciples who refused the opportunity.

How to choose among them depends on fate.

This fate is whether the disciple has a feeling when he enters the fragments of the senior's practice memory, and whether he fits with it.

Zhao Yang held the long sword in his hand, and his mind sank into a space.

The mountains and forests here are lush, the grass grows and warblers fly, and the smoke from the kitchen is curling up in the distance, which looks like a peaceful mountain village.

Most importantly, this is not the North Territory.In other words, it's not the North Territory at this time.

Zhao Yang walked along the mountain road and came to the mountain village in a short while.

There are only a dozen or so families in total. On the threshing ground, a group of women are drying rice, and beside them are three to five children, both male and female, playing around there.

Zhao Yang walked in front of these people, no one turned around, and no one looked back.

He knew that these scenes were all illusions, and only existed in Agni's memory fragments.

"Haha, today's harvest is good, come to my house for a drink tonight!" With a heroic shout, everyone turned their heads and saw six or seven strong men returning from outside the village.

The leader was tall with a broad chest, dark tendons, and a big wild boar on his shoulders.

"Xiao Shan, are your father and I powerful?"

The children gathered around, and the strong man reached out and touched the head of a seven or eight-year-old boy, laughing.

"Father is amazing, dad is the strongest hunter in Zhuangzi!" Xiao Shan looked at the wild boar on the strong man's shoulder, his eyes sparkled.

"Ha ha--"

In the small threshing floor, there was laughter.

The picture flowed, and it was still this threshing field, without the previous scenes of laughter, snowflakes falling, and trees withered.

Whether it is the woman who is looking forward to it or the children who are stomping their feet, there is a trace of worry and sorrow on their faces.

"It's back, it's back!"

Someone shouted, and everyone in the threshing floor surrounded them, and three or five men came back dejectedly carrying a few bony hares and pheasants.

"Hey, the weather is getting colder every day. The bigger prey are hidden in the mountains, and they can't be hunted at all." The strong man who hunted the wild boar before was covered with a tattered animal skin, and his face was a little gray.

"Cook the food first, and keep an eye on the child." The strong man let out a sigh of relief, and threw the few hares to the ground.

Xiao Shan, who grew a head taller, stepped forward, wanted to say something, but backed away.

"Tomorrow, I'll go to the mountains and see if I can hunt a deer back, otherwise I won't be able to survive this day." The strong man muttered, lifted the gourd around his waist, brought it to his mouth, and stuffed it tightly.

In the early morning of the second day, the strong man walked to the entrance of the village with a spear and a big wooden bow on his back.

Last night, the wind and snow fell, and the snow was already more than two feet deep.

Xiao Shan quietly followed behind the strong man, shivering from the cold.

"Little brat, go back!" The brawny man turned his head, shouted violently, then looked up at the dark sky, gritted his teeth, and said, "God, this fucking thief."

As the strong man walked away, Xiao Shan raised his head, looked at the sky, and said in a low voice, "God damn thief."

The strong man left and never came back.

Later, Xiao Shan walked out of the village carrying a gourd, and then froze in the middle of the road.

Fortunately, a practitioner passed by, revived him, and brought him back to the sect.

"What's your name?" In the spacious and bright hall, Xiao Shan knelt in front of the long case, and in front of him was a green-robed Taoist with a kind and kind face.

"My name is Xiaoshan."

The Taoist nodded, and then said slowly: "You enter my sect and inherit the mantle of my Wanquan Jianzong. I will give you a Taoist name."

"Fire." Xiao Shan whispered.

"What?" The Taoist was slightly taken aback, looking at Xiaoshan.

"I'm going to make a raging fire and burn this thief to pieces!" Xiao Shan growled.

"Raging fire, raging fire..." The Taoist repeated it several times in a low voice, his eyes flashed: "Okay, my Wanquan Sword Sect has a lineage of fire-type swordsmanship, although it is not strong, it is also a skill that leads directly to the road of cultivation. It's called Agni, and I'm practicing fire-type swordsmanship!"