Descent of the Phoenix

"You don't care about the island, then please... help fly to rebuild the island.

After all, here is... his home. ”

The voice fell, and the king of the island stared tightly at Haoyue.

It is not the use of her home here as a reliance, but it is here that Ouyang Yufei’s home is spoken.

Haoyue listened deeply to Wangdao Wang Zun, and reached out and held Xuanyuan’s hand standing beside her. He slowly nodded and said, “Okay.”

Haoyue knew that her good word fell, and the island that arrived at it was given to Ouyang Yufei.

However, she does not feel threatened.

Just a little sorry for Xuanyuan Che, but she knows that Xuanyuan Che will also send it.

The king of the island, Wang Zun, met with the moon, and now he took back the sight and looked at the red-eyed Ouyang Yufei. He smiled and patted Ouyang Yufei’s hand and sighed: “It’s just for you... a mess.

After the island, I will give it to you. Master respects you...

Left and right to protect the law, cough, you must cooperate with the fly, be sure to... help him..."

The words have not been finished, the King of the Island has been out of breath, slowly closed his eyes.

"Yes."

"Master respect..."

"Wang Zun..."

The sturdy big layer of water floated up and flew over the land of the island.

The autumn wind is sharp, and the two heroes of the prosperous world are ending one after another. The highest rights holders of the island, the holy priests and the kings of the islands are annihilated.

Perhaps this is their last account of the island.

More, maybe, this is also a relief.

In this autumn wind, the hundreds of thousands of Tianchen army led by Qiu Niu and Yan Hu surrounded the main island of the island and began to encircle the bank.

A group of scattered sands, the collapse of the island, is no longer the scorn of the world.

Along the way, no one can stop, no one can stop, no one is willing to stop.

Autumn marks and Yan Hu such as autumn wind sweeping leaves, sweeping everything.

The island of meditation, inheriting the holy land of the millennium.

In this autumn wind sweeping leaves, it is going to perish.

The sky is clouded and cloud-smooth, freehand and leisurely, the sky blue is like silk, so beautiful, then the clouds are light and windy.

The sky is still the same, but the people are all right.

. . .

Entering the countdown bird