Practice origin column

Chapter 111 Fishing in Middle Earth
"Old friend, you can be regarded as taking a break, hiding in this piece of singing birds and flowers, but it's hard for me..."

Sikong took off the bronze mask, revealing that old, wrinkled face with years, and a glaring hideous scar, from the cheek to the corner of the mouth, and then crawling across the jaw, like a thousand-legged centipede.

There were wisps of evil spirit floating in his eyes, which intersected with the Xuemei eyes, completely destroying Sikong's vicissitudes and heavy temperament, leaving only the creepy monster.

If you look closely, you can even see the occasional ray of bright red plundering Sikong's skin, and the evil spirit is coming from it.

But with the removal of the bronze mask, the evil energy seems to have lost its suppression, and actually descends in a dense manner, rushing up into the sky, forming evil spirits, swirling clouds and swallowing fog in the torrential rain, turning into ghosts and monsters.

"Evil thoughts of Christ?!"

"With such strong evil thoughts about Christ, how many drops of the precious blood of Christ has that person swallowed?"

"It's the Moro god! Looking in the direction of the evil thoughts, it's the battlefield of the god-killing battle six years ago! How did the evil thoughts break through the suppression of the gods' luck?!"

With the end of the world approaching, there are still many outstanding people who can turn the clouds and rains. At this moment, when they saw the monsters in the sky, their hearts froze, and they thought of the earth-shattering battle six years ago.

At the same time, there were also many people with gloomy faces and strange eyes, quietly rushing towards the direction of the evil thoughts.

Sikong squatted down, placed the white flower on the stone tablet, and stroked the pitted inscription, every stroke and stroke of the inscription carried memories of the past.

The rain eroded the stele, dripping from the gullies between these inscriptions, converging to the underside of the stele, in the green grass, the bones that may have turned into dust.

"In the past few years, there have been endless wars, and I have always been caught in wars, and almost died a few times."

Sikong looked like an old man. He sat down on the edge of the monument, took a few breaths, and said to himself: "I miss the time when you were seriously injured and I carried you back to Gucheng. I was on the verge of death. How could you use that wooden stick?" The sword firmly protects me."

'Crack-crack...'

The sound of treading water came one after another from far and near, and figures crossed the ocean, even if there were demons attacking, they could not stop their footsteps.

Sikong turned a deaf ear to it, his eyes were cloudy and hazy, and he smiled wryly: "You have always disliked Huo Wu, don't think I don't know that you are always sneaking at Huo Wu, you are a lustful but shameless guy ..."

'Crack! '

Lightning in the blue sky, straddling the boundless sky and earth, made the world suddenly brighten, causing Sikong's eyes to narrow slightly.

When he opened his eyes again, there were several people in front of him.

"I'll wait, pay respects to Moloch God..."

These few people rushed over, their ears and hair were wet by the rain, and they hung on their cheekbones. They lightly touched the center of their eyebrows with their right fingers, moved their left feet back, bowed forward, and looked at Sikong, but they were a little more explore.

His eyes glanced around, as if he was looking for something.

Although they haven't seen Sikong's true face, but at this end of the world, they can still go to this lonely tomb in the mountains and rivers to mourn, except for Sikong, a god, there is no one else.

In particular, when these people saw Sikongna's old face with layers of folds, like a winding mountain face, their eyes became treacherous, and a faint smile appeared on the corners of their mouths.

Sikong turned a deaf ear and didn't even look at these people. He leaned on the stone tablet and looked up at the distant sky, as if he had fallen into the memories of the past.

Suddenly, at this moment, a weeping blood dragon groaned, resounding for hundreds of miles, containing boundless resentment and helplessness.

It is even more sad that the hero has come to an end.

Several people suddenly turned around, and saw a stone pillar nearly a thousand meters high and a hundred meters in diameter in the depths of the heavy rain, on a piece of flood flooded by the howling wind.

The stone pillar stands in the middle of the ocean, and the tsunami waves hit the stone pillar, which only makes the stone pillar tremble slightly, but there is no tendency to collapse.

Daoist divine light flowed on it, and runes belonging to the gods were intertwined, making these stone pillars the last land of Middle-earth.

The gods made a move.

"Then, is that Dragon God?"

At the foot of the green mountain, the people who were climbing up the mountain through the waves turned their heads and saw a huge silver frost dragon lying on the corner of the stone pillar with its wings cut off and bleeding profusely. He gasped for breath.

The Silver Frost Giant Dragon was covered in wounds from swords that could not be healed, not even the divine light could heal it.

And around this silver frost giant dragon, tens of thousands of people gathered densely.At this moment, some hunters who couldn't hold back their greed and picked up butcher knives were performing dragon slaying techniques to kill a god!
The hunters are a group of lunatics who have no faith, they only divide profit and death.

The atmosphere gradually became a little weird, and the air was a little dry and hot, and even the cold rain couldn't extinguish it in the slightest.

One person saw the dragon's head, his eyes were fixed, and he said in shock: "That is, the supreme, supreme staff of the true god Moro?!"

As soon as these words came out, the crowd on the stone pillar immediately exploded. Even some people who stayed away and watched with cold eyes had red eyes at this moment, looking at the seriously injured silver frost dragon with greed on their faces.

The previous battle of gods spread to the entire Lost Field, and even to the Lost Ocean, so they naturally noticed it.

But in the past few years, there have been constant wars. It has become the norm for the gods to fight each other for the division of power and destiny.

However, God Wars seldom really tear their skin apart and fight to the death.After all, being in a high position has constraints, and there are many worries, fearing that others will take advantage of them.

And seeing the appearance of the silver frost giant dragon, it seems that both sides are hurt by Moro God!

The dragon god lost his dragon wings, and the Moro god lost his supreme staff!
"You have also seen it..."

On the green hill, in front of the lonely grave

With rain on his eyelashes, Sikong looked at the covetous people in front of him, and said calmly——

"Back then, I killed an unqualified reincarnated true god. The god's luck was incomplete, and most of it came from the supreme staff. Now that the staff is lost, I am nothing, and the god's luck has leaked out. clean..."

"Cough, cough, cough!"

There was a rapid coughing sound, and Sikong's mouth was bloodshot, his eyes were dim, and he looked at the tombstone, and said extremely weakly: "In my place, apart from the tombs of old friends behind me, there is only Christ who has evil thoughts, which even I can't suppress." precious blood."

When several people heard the words, their eyes were full of thought, and even among the green hills, those outstanding figures and princes who wanted to come here stopped in their tracks.

"And there, the dragon god was seriously injured and dying, and the supreme staff was left behind. It can be said that it is a god-sent opportunity. If you go late, you will have nothing."

Sikong covered his mouth, and coughed violently again, his trachea twitched, his chest heaved, as if he wanted to cough up his lungs.

But he quietly clenched the holy sword tightly, revealing the determination to burn all jades and stones together.

It was rumored that King Yue, who inherited Moluo's true luck, was seriously injured in reality and was a sick child, and it turned out to be so now.

These people just thought for a while, and after seeing the holy sword in Sikong's hand, they immediately turned around and rushed to the blurred stone pillar in the distance!

There were a few people who took the lead, and the rest left one after another, making this lonely tomb of mountains and rivers suddenly thrown into the ink painting from the noise, and it was extremely quiet. The sound of big waves crashing on the shore and the sound of heavy rain made it even quieter.

Sikong, Tombstone, Tomb

The three fluttered in this misty rain, without saying a word, watching each other with deep sorrow.

A broken sword was inserted in front of the grave.

But suddenly, six people walked up the green hill together, their steps were vigorous, their eyes were steady, and their faces were dignified.

They go slowly, but also firmly.

They are here to kill.

And the goal is self-evident.

Sikong held the holy sword, supported the edge of the stele, stood up slowly, looked at the six people in front of him, and smiled coldly: "I've been waiting for you for a long time..."

(End of this chapter)