Chapter 1 Thunder

Rumble!

Thunder rolled across the sky, and lightning snakes rampaged.

Blood bloomed in the muddy water, the scalding blood evaporated the rain, and bursts of water vapor diffused.

"Eh?!"

Daoist Juechen suddenly stopped, his expression changed.

In his perception, an extremely powerful aura suddenly rose from the mountain forest a kilometer away.

This aura was like a mountain and a sea, like the starry sky and the heavens, majestic and vast, unbelievably towering.

He had never seen such a powerful aura in his life.

Although this aura was fleeting, he would not think it was an illusion.

In an instant, the vigilance in his heart had climbed to the top.

Who is this?

But before he could think about it, he had already seen Tong Zhengyang, who was falling into the muddy water like a rag bag in the night, through the layers of rain.

?!

Daoist Juechen's heart shook.

His hands and eyes were open to the sky, and his disciples were all over the world. He naturally got information about Tong Zhengyang as soon as possible.

He knew very well how powerful this mysterious man who suddenly appeared in Xuan Xing was.

Tearing tanks with his bare hands, beheading fighter jets with his sword, surviving for months after falling into the sea, destroying the entire Bamboo Dragon Society single-handedly and leaving calmly, even if he was ambushed so dangerously tonight, if he hadn't suddenly lost an arm, he could have retreated completely!

He came here this time with a slim chance of survival. Even if that person was seriously injured with a broken arm, he was not sure of winning.

But such a character was killed in an instant!

Yes, killed.

No one can survive with their body in this state, even if this person's physique is stronger than seeing God.

"It's him?!"

Daoist Juechen's eyes narrowed, and his gaze passed through the heavy rain and fell on An Qisheng, who was slowly getting up.

He had a very deep impression of this young man.

The first time they met, Mu Longcheng couldn't help but take action to test him. The second time they met, he realized the Dao in Mount Wudang and his Kung Fu had penetrated into his bones. He had already seen the potential of the Dan realm.

When they met again this time, he seemed to be only slightly stronger than before.

But the mysterious man died in his hands...

How did he do it?

Hoo!

Suck!

In the rain, An Qisheng slowly got up, deeply breathing in the aura of Xuan Xing.

Entering the dream of the Great Thousand Worlds, sixty years passed in a flash.

Even for him, it was an extremely long time.

With a deep breath, he cut off the faint sense of alienation. What filled his heart was a sense of oppression.

The oppression of heaven and earth.

This oppression was so strong that he could feel his divine will being firmly bound in his body, unable to touch the outside world at all.

In an environment with no trace of the spiritual energy of heaven and earth, his divine will caused enormous pressure on his body.

The mind and the body are like two ends of a balance. Whichever end falls will affect the other.

The mind, spirit, or soul cannot exist out of thin air. Just as people need to eat, the soul also needs support.

It's just that the souls of ordinary people rely on the body, which is enough, but his spirit is too strong, and his body is not enough to support it.

Whoosh~

In the rain, the air current howled, and Daoist Juechen came to the mountain forest.

He first glanced at Tong Zhengyang, whose flesh and blood had turned into mud in the mud, and then his gaze fell on An Qisheng, with exploration and contemplation:

"Little friend An, we meet again."

"Daoist, it's been a long time."

An Qisheng cupped his hands slightly.

It was only a few months for Daoist Juechen, but it had been sixty years for him.

"Did you kill this person?"

Daoist Juechen's eyes twitched. If he hadn't seen it with his own eyes, it would have been difficult for him to believe that An Qisheng had done it.

But there was no one around, only him and An Qisheng in the night. There was no third person.

He had no choice but to believe it.

"I killed him."

An Qisheng glanced at Tong Zhengyang and nodded slightly.

This great Qi cultivator, who originally had the aptitude to advance to the Celestial Realm in the original trajectory, had already completely lost his aura.

A single strike from the Wang Quan Sword completely killed him.

Daoist Juechen's eyes rippled, and he carefully looked at An Qisheng.

An Qisheng stood calmly, allowing Daoist Juechen to look at him.

His physique was only at the level of Hua Jin, but his divine will was far higher than Daoist Juechen's, so he was naturally not afraid that he could see anything.

More importantly, with his divine will and the Wang Quan Sword, even if his physique was weak at this time, and he had no Qi channels, true Qi, or Xuan Xing, there was no existence that could threaten him.

Even nuclear bombs.

He was invincible in this world, unafraid of anyone, any force, or even the country.

"Amazing..."

Daoist Juechen restrained his gaze and could only sigh.

He couldn't see anything, but in his mental induction, he could feel a trace of strangeness. It seemed that some huge change had taken place in the young man in front of him.

But he didn't know what kind of change it was. Perhaps it was related to the goal that the mysterious man was frantically chasing after...

"This person was seriously injured with a broken arm, and his internal injuries were also quite serious. He was already at the end of his rope. It was just a coincidence that he met me."

An Qisheng glanced at Tong Zhengyang in the pool of blood.

Tong Zhengyang thought he could steal the Wang Quan Sword and escape the pursuit of Wang Quanzong and Huangjue Temple. However, he didn't know that the amount of water released by the Wang Quanzong people of that generation was enough to fill the lakes in the world.

After three thousand three hundred years, and a full thirty-three generations of Wang Quan Dao people, how strong was Wang Quan Dao? He couldn't imagine it at all.

Once upon a time, there were only eight Bing Zhu level figures in thousands of years.

But in more than three thousand years, there have been as many as two hundred Bing Zhu level figures in Wang Quan Dao. The depth of its heritage is unimaginable to others.

"Even so, it's still extremely amazing."

Daoist Juechen took a deep look at An Qisheng.

He naturally knew that An Qisheng had something to say, but he didn't intend to get to the bottom of it. Who doesn't have any secrets?

Without waiting for An Qisheng to speak, he shook his head and turned to walk into the rain:

"Let's go, let's go. The matter is over. Leave early to avoid trouble..."

He came decisively and left neatly.

In the rain, he disappeared after a few ups and downs.

An Qisheng glanced at the figures flashing in the distance and also turned to leave.

He didn't reject the people from the official government, but he didn't want to stay here and answer everyone who came.

Not long after, Qinglong strode forward.

From a distance, he saw Tong Zhengyang, who was like a pile of mud on the ground.

His eyes narrowed, and a monstrous wave rose in his heart.

This mysterious man died just like that?

Their large-scale battle only seriously injured him, but now he was killed silently?

His emotions fluctuated, unable to describe his mood at this time.

He had already brought a miniature nuclear bomb, wanting to perish with him, but he didn't expect it to be over already.

His figure rose and fell a few times, came to the front, swept across the cracked earth around, and carefully looked at the corpse like a pile of mud, and couldn't help but mutter to himself:

"Really dead? Is it Daoist Juechen, or..."

He pursed his lips, and his expression looked a little cold.

If it was Daoist Juechen, that would be fine.

If it was someone else...

........

London, the capital of the Empire That Never Sets, the Dragon City Building observation deck.

Mu Longcheng sat with his eyes closed, clouds and mist surrounding him, like an immortal sitting in the clouds.

At a certain moment, he seemed to sense something and looked up, as if he had felt something, and opened his eyes:

"Something that can make me feel danger..."

At this moment, he felt a crisis coming from a very distant place.

This was not what his body really felt, but his spirit perceived the fluctuations in the dark and reflected on himself, producing a premonition.

This was a perception that was a step further than "the cicada senses the autumn wind before it moves".

"What could it be?"

Looking at the rising sun, Mu Longcheng's eyes rippled.

Was that 'alien' really so powerful?

Or was there some other change?

With a thought, the elevator had already come up, and the white beauty respectfully called out, "Boss, do you have any instructions?"

"Has Potter sent back any news?"

Mu Longcheng asked lightly.

The white beauty was slightly startled, and then replied, "Leader Potter sent back news that he was seriously injured by someone. He had already reported it before..."

Mu Longcheng slowly closed his eyes and said lightly:

"Contact Potter and have him send someone to the border of Xuan Country..."

"Yes."

The white beauty respectfully responded and turned to enter the elevator.

........

Hoo hoo~

In a small courtyard of a folk house in Thailand, Su Jie was practicing boxing, and the sound of breaking through the air was endless.

He had already gotten up before the night had faded.

Since learning martial arts, he had been obsessed with it, not letting go of all his free time every day, and sleeping very little.

Practicing Kung Fu in the early morning was just basic operation for him.

"Your fist has no spirit..."

A Mandarin voice came, and Potter slowly walked into the courtyard.

His injuries were still extremely serious, but he was already walking as usual. However, Su Jie could smell the bloody smell coming from his mouth and nose. This was a sign that his internal organs had ruptured and had not healed, and he could not control his Qi and blood.

"No spirit in the fist?"

Su Jie's heart moved, but he didn't stop. Instead, he slowly finished the set of boxing before slowly stopping:

"Coach, your injury hasn't healed yet. Go and rest."

"Your boxing technique is relaxed and measured, and your skills are complete. You already have a level of skill, but without spirit in the fist, it is difficult to reach the hall of elegance."

Potter talked eloquently:

"A fist without spirit is like a dragon without eyes, ink splashes without a heart, and a stroke without bones. It looks good but is useless. For real experts, it's just a joke..."

Potter spoke Mandarin fluently, with fluctuating tones, and was extremely infectious.

Su Jie secretly admired him. Not to mention his martial arts, just speaking Mandarin, Potter had surpassed 99.9% of the people of Xuan.

"Then coach, what is spirit?"

Su Jie asked.

"The spirit in the fist... eh?"

Potter was about to speak when he seemed to feel something in his heart. He instantly looked north and his expression changed.

"Coach?"

Su Jie followed his gaze and saw nothing, and couldn't help but feel a little surprised.

"He, he's dead..."

Potter's body swayed slightly, and the bloody smell on his body suddenly increased a lot. However, his heart was agitated for a moment, and he almost couldn't control his Qi and blood.

"Coach!"

Su Jie hurried forward to support him and couldn't help but be surprised: "Who died?"

Since he had seen Potter, he had always been calm, even when he was seriously injured, he had never changed his expression. At this time, his mood was so fluctuating.

What did he see?

"Unbelievable, unbelievable, what can kill him?"

Potter looked at the night and murmured:

"What... can kill God?"