True Immortal of the Netherworld

The purple sun is in the sky, as quiet as a hanging bead, or a magical purple eye looks down at the green fire demon realm below.

As all the demonic fires in the Glazed Fire Path were extinguished, the portal to the Green Fire Demon Realm opened wide, and news continued to spread. The remaining treasures from the battlefield of the battle between humans and demons were left out of the Green Fire Demon Realm.

Most of these treasures were purchased by merchant alliances in the market at high prices, and then sold to monks and sects in need at higher prices, which really made the merchant alliances make a fortune.

And behind every gleaming treasure discovered is the ruthless killing among the monks. It can be said that every treasure is blood red.

There is a large green meadow in the Green Fire Demon Realm, called the Green Wind Grassland. The wind blows by and the green waves touch the sky.

In the center of the Green Wind Grassland stands a tall altar. The altar is made of huge smooth white stones and is divided into three floors, with a small top and a large bottom. There are some complicated ancient Confucian seal characters engraved on the surface.

The white altar lies quietly on the green grassland, which is very eye-catching. Viewed from a distance, it looks like white clouds falling from the sky are resting on the grassland. Looking closely, it looks more like three huge books stacked on top of each other, recording secrets unknown thousands of years ago.

It is the Rutian Holy Altar where the Confucian sect formation was set up here by the Yudao sect thousands of years ago.

At this moment, outside the Rutian Holy Altar, a small ink-colored light spot suddenly appeared on the originally empty ground.

The black light spot moved spontaneously, like an excited ink bird, leaving ink-colored footprints in the void as it jumped. Not long after, a "?" character with a size of about ten feet was actually outlined in the void.

The large font of Nuo stands in the air, with strong strokes and clusters of ancient seal characters scattered on the surface.

Astonishingly, the silver aura inside the word "?" shone brightly, and the space fluctuated violently.

Whoosh, two figures jumped out from it and landed steadily on the ground of Green Wind Grassland.

The visitors were a scholar in gray robe and a scholar in blue robe.

The scholar in gray robe is simply dressed, carrying one hand on his back, with a straight body and an ordinary middle-aged face, with a hint of bookishness in his stability.

The green-shirted scholar on the side looks like he is in his twenties, wearing an exquisite blue brocade Confucian attire, and has a smile on his face.

Without it, the scholar in gray robe is Ji Wuhen, the peak master of Moyu Peak of Yudao Sect, and the scholar in green shirt is Lu Qian, the peak master of Qingyu Peak of Yudao Sect.

The two people's clothes were fluttering. When they landed and stood firm, the gray robe waved one hand and fired an invisible magic formula. The ink "?" behind the two people turned into ink lines and disappeared without a trace, as if quietly melting into the water. .

"Senior Brother Ji, your writing power has become much stronger." The scholar in green shirt praised.

"Junior Brother Lu, without your accurate positioning skills of chess layout, no matter how powerful my writing power is, I would not be able to find the exact location of the Confucian Heavenly Altar so quickly." The scholar in gray robe looked around, "Fortunately there is no one here. , otherwise you and I would be suspected of complimenting each other. We are both disciples of the Confucian sect, and we should be modest gentlemen."

"Senior Brother Ji, this is the truth. Why bother to be rigid? Now that you and I have reached the realm of Dao Ming, we are able to look down upon all the heroes."

"Having said that, this was due to the opening of the secret realm of "Shuxiang Mendi", one of the Confucian holy places of our Yu Dao Sect, half a year ago. This secret realm was opened for a hundred years. You and I were lucky enough to enter it for retreat and practice, and then we successfully broke through the cultivation path. As a bottleneck. Now that our strength has increased, we are more confident to complete the task delivered by the door. "

"If you and I work together, we will succeed immediately."

The two looked at each other and smiled, and then unanimously set their sights on the Confucian Temple opposite.

"This Confucian Heavenly Altar is indeed one of the top formations of our Yu Dao Sect. It overflows with the awe-inspiring aura unique to the Confucian Sect. Just looking up at it makes people awe-inspiring." The gray-robed scholar said.

"Since entering the secret realm of the "Scholarly Family", we have become more and more sensitive to Haoran's energy. But you and I have never been able to cultivate Haoran's heavenly veins. It is very difficult to continue to understand the essence of Haoran's power." Qing The scholar in shirt said.

"Haoran Heavenly Vein is a great opportunity that can only be encountered. Among my dignified Yu Dao Sect, in the past hundred years, isn't there only one disciple who can cultivate Haoran Heavenly Vein, "Zhan Yunfei"? But this disciple is indeed There is something extraordinary about him. Judging from the trace of Xuanbing Qi left on the surface of the Confucian Heavenly Altar opposite, Zhan Yunfei has probably entered the Confucian Heavenly Altar," said the gray-robed scholar Ji Wuhen.

The scholar in green shirt curled his lips when he heard this, and then said: "Now in our Yu Dao Sect, except for the great elder Lan Xingjun of Lan Yu Peak, I am afraid that no one can give orders to this boy Zhan Yunfei. Anyway, according to seniority , Zhan Yunfei should also call you and me uncle. This time, he and Qi Mu arrived here first, and entered the Confucian Holy Altar without waiting for you and me to come to support. I don't know if he was greedy for merit. Well, you still don’t take us seriously?”

"You and I should go into the Rutian Holy Altar and take a look. I hope nothing happens to him. Otherwise, if the elder Lan Xingjun blames him, it will appear that we are in trouble."

"Then Senior Brother Lao Ji will cast a spell to open the portal to the Confucian Heavenly Altar." The scholar in green shirt cupped his fists and said.

"Let me give it a try." Hearing this, the gray-robed scholar did his duty, took a step forward, stared at the Confucian Temple in front of him, calmed his breathing, and began to cast spells. At the same time, he thought to himself: "That junior Zhan Yunfei can get in, so of course I, Ji Wuhen, can get in."

The gray-robed scholar's hands naturally poked out from his sleeves, and the fingertips seemed to be blessed by a spiritual pen. The ten fingers clicked, drawing ink lines out of thin air. Without stopping for a moment, those ink lines twisted like snakes, and in a blink of an eye, they spliced ​​together a huge ink hand.

The large ink-colored hands and feet are dozens of feet in size, and in the palm of the hand, there is a clear pale golden seal character "Feng".

"Go." The gray-robed scholar changed the magic formula in his hand and said softly at the same time.

The next moment, the big ink-colored hand carried a powerful force of restraint, which was directed towards the direction of the Confucian Heavenly Altar.

Squeak, squeak, squeak, black electricity appeared out of thin air.

As the big black hand got closer and closer to the Rutian Holy Altar, a powerful force of restraint began to act on it. Like a black eagle attacking a jade rabbit, the Rutian Holy Altar only swayed slightly before being enveloped by the big hand.

The scholar in blue shirt watching on the side nodded slightly, "Senior Brother Ji's power of writing and condensation is really extraordinary. This ink hand technique may have the power of hundreds of mountains."

At this moment, the blue-shirted scholar's brows suddenly became serious, and his pupils reflected what was happening at the Confucian Temple opposite.

A majestic aura swirled on the surface of the Confucian Temple. The aura of awe-inspiring dragons flew upwards toward the covered ink-colored hands.

"Long!" The world trembled.

The big black hand was held up in mid-air and could not be lowered completely.

At the same time, large black ancient seal characters appeared on the surface of the Confucian Temple. They are connected into pieces, like a splash of ink. After a while, a huge ink painting of Nuo Da appeared.

In the ink painting, a Confucian scholar is standing on the bank of a willow tree holding a scroll. The spring water of the river is rippling across the river, creating a natural charm.

Immediately afterwards, the entire picture suddenly twisted and turned into a black mass, as if it had been altered with a huge ink pen.

Astonishingly, a ten-foot-sized brush shadow suddenly appeared on the surface of the altar.

Nanuoda's pen was just a wave, like a sword holding up the sky. The big ink-colored hand hovering above the Rutian altar exploded with a bang, turning into ink-colored stars all over the sky.

Ji Wuhen, who was casting the spell, felt a tightness in his chest and said in surprise: "The power of writing to condense the truth."

The scholar in blue shirt on the side frowned, and instinctively reached out with his hands, thinking in his mind: "It's better not to interfere casually before Senior Brother Ji can speak out. It is also the power of writing to condense the truth, so as not to let him lose face."

The scholar in green shirt was ready to take action at any time, but did not take action immediately.

At this moment, above the Confucian altar, the shadow of the brush quickly turned, and the tip of the brush was pointed at Ji Wuhen and Lu Qian opposite. Like a snake that smells its prey, the brush strokes with a shadowy stroke.

brush!

A black ink mark was thrown out of thin air, like a tall mountain.

With a "buzz", the ink marks condensed into shape, imagining a giant mountain of ink that was tens of feet tall, and suppressed it directly towards the location of the two people opposite.

As Mo Mountain descends, ripples appear in the void, and the powerful pressure is more than ten times more terrifying than the real rocks.

When the gray-robed scholar Ji Wuhen saw this, his eyes narrowed, but his heart became excited.

Ji Wuhen originally practiced the power of writing, one of the six Confucian arts. But what is revealed on the Confucian altar opposite is the power of writing and condensation. Being able to compete with the purest power of writing and condensation is something that Ji Wuhen can only meet but cannot hope for. With his attainments, he might be able to learn something from it.

"This ink-colored pen is formed by the power of the formation, and its activation must be corresponding to the formation. If I were to confront him head-on, even if I was lucky enough to win this round, I'm afraid the fight would continue endlessly." In just a moment, Ji Wuhen had a judgment in his heart.

Ji Wuhen's expression didn't change, but he didn't dare to slow down his actions.

He secretly improved his physical strength, which was at 70%. The gray robe behind him was beating like a ball, and ink spiritual lines overflowed from his body surface, instantly dyeing his gray robe ink.

Immediately afterwards, his entire figure flew up.

Miraculously, Ji Wuhen's body reflected a clear shadow of a brush. The person was both the brush and the brush was the person.

As Ji Wuhen's body was deftly outlined in the sky, an ink-colored seal character "wind" appeared out of thin air, which was dozens of feet in size.

"The writing is concentrated, the soul power is transformed, and it is popular all over the world..." Ji Wuhen, who was in mid-air, silently recited the secret formula in his heart.

The next moment, the wind character dissipated, strong winds rose, and the sky and the earth were dyed black.

The ink strokes that appeared from the Confucian Temple opposite were like hunters who could not find their target. Their "sight" was completely blocked by the wind of ink, hovering in mid-air, trembling, and never lowering.

"Wuwuwu...wuwuwu..." In the black wind, countless strings of ink-colored seal characters were like black crows in the wind, seemingly flying aimlessly.

"Found it, the position is right there."

High in the sky, Ji Wuhen's body carried the reflected shadow of the brush and flew towards the surface of the Confucian Temple.

"Bang!"

With a muffled sound, Ji Wuhen's body accurately landed on a point on the surface of the Confucian Temple. He kept making spells with his hands, and in the blink of an eye, thousands of runes were painted on the surface of the Confucian Temple.

"Buzz buzz..." The Rutian Holy Altar was like a giant that had been scratched. It trembled wildly for a while, and the awe-inspiring aura subsided, and the illusory huge pen disappeared out of thin air.

High in the sky, the ink wind has dispersed, and the sky is blue and the ground is green.

The gray-robed scholar Ji Wuhen stands on the surface of the Confucian Temple. And under his feet, there was an open passage.

"Bah bang bang, bang bang bang." The scholar in green shirt opposite clapped his hands and cheered, "Senior Brother Ji, excellent."

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