Chapter 26
With no other choice, Fang Xiuran was forced to stop chasing and block the countless red swords. After the swords were cut off, they regrouped in the air and attacked Fang Xiuran again.
Fang Xiuran muttered: "We must fight quickly, otherwise junior sister will be in danger!"
The continuous sharp swords slowed down Fang Xiuran's pace, cutting off and condensing again and again. Although they were no longer condensed in the end, they became even more troublesome.
Because the severed red sword changes in the air, unlike before it condenses into one, when it splits, it becomes two, and two becomes four, doubling its growth.
Even if Fang Xiuran kept swinging his sword, he could not completely prevent the continuous attacks from the front. The sword seemed to have eyes and began to change direction.
One part was still attacking from the front, and the other part was stabbing from the side. When Fang Xiuran saw it, he hurriedly turned sideways to avoid the sharp sword.
But he was still a step too slow. The skirt of his clothes was scratched by a sharp sword coming from the side and exploded. His arm also had a deep gash, and bright red blood flowed out from it, dyeing the white Taoist robe red and dazzling.
Fang Xiuran remained silent, took out the elixir and poured it into his mouth. The bleeding stopped, but the wound did not heal...
"Hey, how are you, kid? Be happy. You will become my new blood slave immediately! This is a great honor, haha. The thought of a decent monk turning into a half-dead blood slave makes me extremely excited!"
The perverted demon cultivator laughed crazily, as if he was sure to win Xiu Ran.
Fang Xiuran moved his left arm, feeling a slight stinging pain from the wound. He looked back at Bai Rao and saw that she was being chased. His pupils shrank, and then he rolled his eyes at the sick demon cultivator in front of him and said with disdain:
"Small injuries, nothing to worry about."
"Well, then I'm really happy. How long can you hold on? I hope you don't die so quickly and let me enjoy your righteous begging for mercy, hahaha!"
The already sick demon cultivator didn't care at all about Fang Xiuran's provocation. He was not afraid of his harsh words, but was afraid that he would beg for mercy early, which would lose a lot of fun.
"Jie Jie Jie, I don't know who can hold on better, you or that ordinary woman. She begged for mercy when all the blood in her body was running out."
After that, the blood in his body was squeezed out again, without any worry that excessive blood loss would cause harm to the body.
Hearing him mention women, Fang Xiuran thought of the woman who left in the closet with a strange gesture.
Subconsciously, he clenched the hilt of the sword and watched the changes in the blood around him. The rich smell of blood spread in the air, making it nauseating. Fang Xiuran half held his breath in disgust.
"I wish I had known to ask the master for breath-holding pills before going out." Fang Xiuran shrugged and sighed with a hint of regret.
"Haha, what a delicious taste, you dare to dislike it, but it doesn't matter, you will become a part of them soon!"
Hearing that Fang Xiuran disliked his precious blood, and the blood that had not yet flowed out became a bit manic and boiling in his body, he comforted him: "Don't worry, little guys, I will let you enjoy it later."
He himself was also a little impatient. You must know that this is the precious fresh blood that he extracted after killing all the people in this small village. Even a mere monk would dare to despise it!
The blood in the exposed air began to boil and turned into countless sharp swords again, striking Fang Xiuran densely.
Fang Xiuran looked around at this scene, feeling something bad. He inserted the long sword into the ground, recited the mantra silently, and used his spiritual power to build a barrier around his body to isolate the countless stinky swords.
After an unknown period of time, tiny cracks appeared in the barrier that Fang Xiuran had erected. The sharp sword began to notice this and switched to focusing on attacking the cracks.
When his spiritual power was about to be exhausted, Fang Xiuran took out the bottle of Spirit-Gathering Pill from the mustard bag and held it in his mouth. Every time his spiritual power was exhausted, he raised his head and inhaled a Spirit-Gathering Pill.
But there is no way to continue like this. As time goes by, the spirit-gathering pill becomes empty, and Fang Xiuran, who is about to run out of spiritual power, is unable to withstand the sharp sword and the barrier shatters.
Waves of stinging pain came through, and Fang Xiuran's Taoist robe instantly fell into pieces and fluttered messily in the wind. Countless wounds, large and small, appeared. His body was also shaken back several meters, and stopped after hitting a big tree. "How are you? Feel comfortable." The sick demon cultivator was friendly and concerned.
"Oh, it's not worth mentioning."
A rusty smell rose in his mouth. Fang Xiuran spit out the blood that had accumulated in his mouth and wiped away the few drops of blood left at the corner of his mouth.
With the help of the long sword, he propped up his disabled body. The long sword trembled twice before he supported Fang Xiuran. After standing up, he pointed the sword at the sick demon cultivator and said disdainfully: "If you have any other tricks, just use them!"
"Jie Jie, I just like your backbone."
As soon as the sick demon cultivator raised his hand, the blood in the air returned to him and condensed on the broadsword. The broadsword turned into a huge bloody blade, and the rest turned into a bloody barrier. If you look closely, you can see the flow of blood.
He was seen holding the bloody blade in his hand, breaking through the surrounding barriers in an instant, and rushing towards Fang Xiuran, leaving only a red shadow.
"Yeah, I hope you'll like it later." Fang Xiuran showed no fear. He smiled evilly and did not dodge. He no longer blindly defended. He held the sword tightly with both hands and faced his attack head-on.
"The second form of Wuxu Sword Technique, Shadow Painting!"
Soon after the words were spoken, Fang Xiuran's figure split apart as soon as he finished speaking, and several identical Fang Xiuran appeared. They all held swords in their hands, jumped up in the air, and stabbed the sick demon cultivator in unison.
The sick demon cultivator was stunned, but quickly adjusted his state, locked onto one of the figures, and slashed with the huge blood blade.
Fang Xiuran panicked and caught it with his sword. However, he still couldn't withstand the bloody blade, and several Fang Xiuran around the sick demon cultivator also disappeared.
"Jiejie, boy, it seems I have won." He laughed wildly and chopped harder and harder until Fang Xiuran fell from the air. He laughed even more crazily, "Hahaha, here comes the new toy!"
"Having confidence is a good thing."
Fang Xiuran's contemptuous voice came from behind him. He looked back in horror, and a dirty figure suddenly appeared in front of him. Along with it was the long sword that contained the unparalleled sword intent.
Before he had time to dodge, the long sword pierced one of his eyes. The intact eye looked down in disbelief. With the rest of his eyes, he saw that Fang Xiuran's figure on the ground became smaller and smaller, just like his heart of underestimating the enemy.
In order to prevent the sick demon cultivator from dying, Fang Xiuran took another blow with disgust and said with a heart-wrenching taunt: "Oh, I told you, you are not worth mentioning!"
It wasn't until the demon cultivator completely died that he stopped attacking and retrieved the sword.
"I just tricked him into coming here to fight in close combat. He actually thought he was invincible. It's a pity that he stained my Liuyu."
Fang Xiuran took out the handkerchief from the mustard bag and wiped off the foul-smelling red on the Liuyu-white sword blade one by one.
Liuyu is Fang Xiuran's natal sword. For a sword cultivator, the natal sword is the most important. But at this time, Fang Xiuran's natal sword was stained with the blood of a sick and disgusting demon cultivator.
Seeing that the sick demon cultivator was dead, Fang Xiuran flew towards the direction Bai Rao left with his sword.
But the moment he left, the corpse of the demon cultivator with his eyes and heart pierced gradually melted, turned into a pool of blood and merged with the ground, and finally disappeared...
(End of this chapter)
With no other choice, Fang Xiuran was forced to stop chasing and block the countless red swords. After the swords were cut off, they regrouped in the air and attacked Fang Xiuran again.
Fang Xiuran muttered: "We must fight quickly, otherwise junior sister will be in danger!"
The continuous sharp swords slowed down Fang Xiuran's pace, cutting off and condensing again and again. Although they were no longer condensed in the end, they became even more troublesome.
Because the severed red sword changes in the air, unlike before it condenses into one, when it splits, it becomes two, and two becomes four, doubling its growth.
Even if Fang Xiuran kept swinging his sword, he could not completely prevent the continuous attacks from the front. The sword seemed to have eyes and began to change direction.
One part was still attacking from the front, and the other part was stabbing from the side. When Fang Xiuran saw it, he hurriedly turned sideways to avoid the sharp sword.
But he was still a step too slow. The skirt of his clothes was scratched by a sharp sword coming from the side and exploded. His arm also had a deep gash, and bright red blood flowed out from it, dyeing the white Taoist robe red and dazzling.
Fang Xiuran remained silent, took out the elixir and poured it into his mouth. The bleeding stopped, but the wound did not heal...
"Hey, how are you, kid? Be happy. You will become my new blood slave immediately! This is a great honor, haha. The thought of a decent monk turning into a half-dead blood slave makes me extremely excited!"
The perverted demon cultivator laughed crazily, as if he was sure to win Xiu Ran.
Fang Xiuran moved his left arm, feeling a slight stinging pain from the wound. He looked back at Bai Rao and saw that she was being chased. His pupils shrank, and then he rolled his eyes at the sick demon cultivator in front of him and said with disdain:
"Small injuries, nothing to worry about."
"Well, then I'm really happy. How long can you hold on? I hope you don't die so quickly and let me enjoy your righteous begging for mercy, hahaha!"
The already sick demon cultivator didn't care at all about Fang Xiuran's provocation. He was not afraid of his harsh words, but was afraid that he would beg for mercy early, which would lose a lot of fun.
"Jie Jie Jie, I don't know who can hold on better, you or that ordinary woman. She begged for mercy when all the blood in her body was running out."
After that, the blood in his body was squeezed out again, without any worry that excessive blood loss would cause harm to the body.
Hearing him mention women, Fang Xiuran thought of the woman who left in the closet with a strange gesture.
Subconsciously, he clenched the hilt of the sword and watched the changes in the blood around him. The rich smell of blood spread in the air, making it nauseating. Fang Xiuran half held his breath in disgust.
"I wish I had known to ask the master for breath-holding pills before going out." Fang Xiuran shrugged and sighed with a hint of regret.
"Haha, what a delicious taste, you dare to dislike it, but it doesn't matter, you will become a part of them soon!"
Hearing that Fang Xiuran disliked his precious blood, and the blood that had not yet flowed out became a bit manic and boiling in his body, he comforted him: "Don't worry, little guys, I will let you enjoy it later."
He himself was also a little impatient. You must know that this is the precious fresh blood that he extracted after killing all the people in this small village. Even a mere monk would dare to despise it!
The blood in the exposed air began to boil and turned into countless sharp swords again, striking Fang Xiuran densely.
Fang Xiuran looked around at this scene, feeling something bad. He inserted the long sword into the ground, recited the mantra silently, and used his spiritual power to build a barrier around his body to isolate the countless stinky swords.
After an unknown period of time, tiny cracks appeared in the barrier that Fang Xiuran had erected. The sharp sword began to notice this and switched to focusing on attacking the cracks.
When his spiritual power was about to be exhausted, Fang Xiuran took out the bottle of Spirit-Gathering Pill from the mustard bag and held it in his mouth. Every time his spiritual power was exhausted, he raised his head and inhaled a Spirit-Gathering Pill.
But there is no way to continue like this. As time goes by, the spirit-gathering pill becomes empty, and Fang Xiuran, who is about to run out of spiritual power, is unable to withstand the sharp sword and the barrier shatters.
Waves of stinging pain came through, and Fang Xiuran's Taoist robe instantly fell into pieces and fluttered messily in the wind. Countless wounds, large and small, appeared. His body was also shaken back several meters, and stopped after hitting a big tree. "How are you? Feel comfortable." The sick demon cultivator was friendly and concerned.
"Oh, it's not worth mentioning."
A rusty smell rose in his mouth. Fang Xiuran spit out the blood that had accumulated in his mouth and wiped away the few drops of blood left at the corner of his mouth.
With the help of the long sword, he propped up his disabled body. The long sword trembled twice before he supported Fang Xiuran. After standing up, he pointed the sword at the sick demon cultivator and said disdainfully: "If you have any other tricks, just use them!"
"Jie Jie, I just like your backbone."
As soon as the sick demon cultivator raised his hand, the blood in the air returned to him and condensed on the broadsword. The broadsword turned into a huge bloody blade, and the rest turned into a bloody barrier. If you look closely, you can see the flow of blood.
He was seen holding the bloody blade in his hand, breaking through the surrounding barriers in an instant, and rushing towards Fang Xiuran, leaving only a red shadow.
"Yeah, I hope you'll like it later." Fang Xiuran showed no fear. He smiled evilly and did not dodge. He no longer blindly defended. He held the sword tightly with both hands and faced his attack head-on.
"The second form of Wuxu Sword Technique, Shadow Painting!"
Soon after the words were spoken, Fang Xiuran's figure split apart as soon as he finished speaking, and several identical Fang Xiuran appeared. They all held swords in their hands, jumped up in the air, and stabbed the sick demon cultivator in unison.
The sick demon cultivator was stunned, but quickly adjusted his state, locked onto one of the figures, and slashed with the huge blood blade.
Fang Xiuran panicked and caught it with his sword. However, he still couldn't withstand the bloody blade, and several Fang Xiuran around the sick demon cultivator also disappeared.
"Jiejie, boy, it seems I have won." He laughed wildly and chopped harder and harder until Fang Xiuran fell from the air. He laughed even more crazily, "Hahaha, here comes the new toy!"
"Having confidence is a good thing."
Fang Xiuran's contemptuous voice came from behind him. He looked back in horror, and a dirty figure suddenly appeared in front of him. Along with it was the long sword that contained the unparalleled sword intent.
Before he had time to dodge, the long sword pierced one of his eyes. The intact eye looked down in disbelief. With the rest of his eyes, he saw that Fang Xiuran's figure on the ground became smaller and smaller, just like his heart of underestimating the enemy.
In order to prevent the sick demon cultivator from dying, Fang Xiuran took another blow with disgust and said with a heart-wrenching taunt: "Oh, I told you, you are not worth mentioning!"
It wasn't until the demon cultivator completely died that he stopped attacking and retrieved the sword.
"I just tricked him into coming here to fight in close combat. He actually thought he was invincible. It's a pity that he stained my Liuyu."
Fang Xiuran took out the handkerchief from the mustard bag and wiped off the foul-smelling red on the Liuyu-white sword blade one by one.
Liuyu is Fang Xiuran's natal sword. For a sword cultivator, the natal sword is the most important. But at this time, Fang Xiuran's natal sword was stained with the blood of a sick and disgusting demon cultivator.
Seeing that the sick demon cultivator was dead, Fang Xiuran flew towards the direction Bai Rao left with his sword.
But the moment he left, the corpse of the demon cultivator with his eyes and heart pierced gradually melted, turned into a pool of blood and merged with the ground, and finally disappeared...
(End of this chapter)
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