In the most terrifying, suffocating pain, the cold air rushed into the brain, frozen wildly, and the last light in the eyes of joy changed from hatred to begging, and from begging to despair.

Finally, from despair to dead silence.

Dead silence like ice and snow.

After more than ten days, I was happy with the struggle in my hand and had no strength anymore.

His hands also hang down, losing all signs of life.

Chen Qiu let go of his hand, he took a step back, looked at the joy of kneeling on the ground, tilting his head, his whole head frozen into ice, and the sword jade was shaking, obviously there was an additional phantom of the Witch Sect.

Very happy.

Really dead!

"bass"

Shaking the light out of the sheath, Chen Qiu held the knife in both hands, and in the flash of cold light, the frozen head flew out of his neck, smashed on the ground, and jumped a few times.

With a click, the long knife returned to the sheath.

Chen Qiu leaned on a bright silver spear and looked at the separated corpse on his head.

Now, he has thousands of wonderful methods, and he can no longer survive.

"Amitabha"

The Buddha's name sounded from more than ten feet away, and the weak and tired voice of the old monk Yuanwu sounded in Shen Qiu's ears.

"Hero Chen Qiu, come with me. The leader of Ren Hao and Zhang Moye are fighting fiercely. This will be the last battle in his life. As his nephew, you must be there!
Chapter completed!