The sword was like a person.
The man was cold, and the sword was cold.
If the sword was cold, how could the person not be cold?
He had already forgotten how much time had passed in the mountains, but the branches and leaves on the tree had already fallen three times.
Ye Feng was doing something.
It was somewhat laughable.
He was stabbing the leaves, sword after sword.
The reflection in his eyes was a leaf, but his heart was still a leaf.
The sword was very fast. He could at least put five or six pieces on the sword with each stab.
However, he was always dissatisfied because he had regressed. In the past, he could have done better.
The sword stopped, and Ye Feng's left hand covered his chest.
His heart was beating very fast, as if it was going to cut a hole in his chest and jump out.
Why?
Because of one person!
The sun was setting, and people were at the end of the world.
The scabbard was pitch-black, the handle was pitch-black, and the hand holding the saber was pale. His pitch-black eyes and pale face were almost transparent under the sunlight. Under the setting sun, he would always take a step with his left foot before slowly dragging his right leg across the ground.
It was strange that a swordsman would have a swordsman in his heart.
It was a figure he had never seen before, but it was deeply imprinted in his heart.
He had never seen this person before, but he knew his name.
Fu Hongxue!
The man who had carried hatred all his life and walked in the dark all his life.
A pale hand and a pitch-black knife. A man with death in his eyes and death in his knife.
"Do I have to bear his hatred just because I imitated his saber drawing technique?”Ye Feng asked himself silently. A strange person had appeared in his mind, but he was not shocked.
Was it because of the Realm Piercing Pearl? Ye Feng thought.
Since ancient times, heroes were lonely. Fu Hongxue might not be a hero, but he was lonelier than a hero. He had no friends, nor did he need friends. He lived for revenge, and he only faced enemies and foes.
A knife, a journey without retreat; A person, a lonely and lonely soul!
Fu Hongxue brandished his saber, bringing endless death. The person was like the saber, and the saber was like the person.
Because he was full of hatred.
Ye Feng waved his sword, waving it towards death.
Because of persistence.
Deep in his heart, that lonely figure made Ye Feng understand his loneliness and hatred. He accepted everything about him. At this moment, he was Fu Hongxue.
He suddenly felt that the shadows that were deeply reflected in his mind before he transmigrated might appear in his life one after another in the future.
Why? He didn't understand.
Perhaps it was the great luck of a transmigrator.
Ye Feng suddenly smiled. His pale face had a wild and wild smile. Perhaps he would not be lonely in the future.
Putting away the bamboo sword, Ye Feng stopped practicing.
Because he didn't need it anymore.
At this moment, the secret of the saber drawing technique was in his heart. He only needed to calm down and he would be able to completely make use of it.
Right now, what he had to do was more important.
He combined the secrets of the saber drawing technique with the heart technique of the Evil-Warding Sword Manual.
It turned into his own sword drawing technique.
It had been three years. Even though he was strong enough to kill second-rate experts with his Sword Drawing Technique, his internal energy cultivation was too weak.
Because he was only cultivating the basic qi cultivation method, his inner force cultivation was barely at the third tier.
……
The young man in the bamboo house.
Ye Feng sat cross-legged on the bed with his eyes closed. His mind gradually calmed down. The depths of her heart was like a raging sea. The sun was setting in the west, and there was a lonely background. A pale hand, a pitch-black knife, and a man limping forward.
The veins on his hand that was holding the saber were already bulging.
She held it so tightly, as if she wanted to merge the knife into his body. His pale face coldly looked ahead. There was no one in front of him. However, in his eyes, there was clearly someone in front of him, somewhere he couldn't see.
Suddenly, Ye Feng seemed to hear a woman's voice. Her voice was mournful and sharp, like the cry of a ghost in the cold night."When you were born, the snow was red, dyed red by blood!”
Snow? Or blood? The snow that was dyed red with blood was red snow.
Fu Hongxue!
The blade flashed.
Fu Hongxue pulled the Death Blade out of its pitch-black scabbard.
The brilliant saber light was like a saber curtain.
He wanted to break through the haze in front of him, the lost fog, and open a bright path in despair. Such a beautiful saber was like a bright moon. When the saber fell, it was like a bright moon falling.
What it brought was not death, but a cold radiance. Unfortunately, the brilliance of the moon was the brilliance of a knife, and a knife was a lethal weapon. No matter how dazzling and beautiful it was, it still brought death and despair.
Ye Feng's heart tightened as if someone had grabbed his heart. He couldn't feel the air around him, leaving only the suffocating darkness.
It was as if his soul was about to fall into the abyss of hell, and he would never see the end.
Wave after wave of pressure!
Whoosh!
Unknowingly, Ye Feng opened his eyes and greedily swallowed the air.
"So scary, so beautiful. No wonder Fu Hongxue's saber was a demonic saber! It was so beautiful that it made people willing to die. At the moment of death, they clearly felt the terror of hell. They wanted to break free but could not.”
"He fused hatred into his saber art, causing the saber to produce a demonic nature!”
The sky is bright, the earth is vast, the eyes are bleeding, the moon is dark, once you enter the Wanma Hall, the blade is broken, the heart is broken; Once you enter Wanma Hall, don't even think about returning to your hometown.
Even though Ye Feng was experienced, he had never seen such a beautiful and terrifying scene. He couldn't imagine that there was actually someone who could interpret hatred in such a dazzling manner.
Yes, dazzling.
Other than this word, he couldn't think of any other words to describe it.
Hatred was originally a dark word. Ye Feng couldn't understand how it could give birth to such a beautiful and dazzling thought.
There was only one Fu Hongxue, even if Ye Feng had accepted everything about him.
He was still not Fu Hongxue.
It was able to make the dark and resolute demonic blade give off a dazzling illusion. That was the true demonic blade. Ye Feng suddenly felt that he understood the true meaning behind Fu Hongxue's saber.
Saber and sword were different.
The blade was ruthless, and the sword was cold.
The Evil-Warding Sword Manual was a sword of the evil path. It was strange and gloomy. However, if he were to focus solely on the strange and gloomy side of things, he would really fall into a disadvantageous position.
The real Evil-Warding Sword Manual had to make people feel that it was strange, gloomy, and also indescribably beautiful.
After understanding all of this, Ye Feng understood the secrets of the Evil-Warding Sword Manual and the Saber Drawing Skill. The Saber Drawing Skill and the Evil-Warding Sword Manual naturally merged together.
This time, he didn't just complete the Evil-Warding Sword Manual, but he also created an Evil-Warding Sword Manual that completely belonged to Ye Feng.
Or rather, it was not the Evil-Warding Sword Manual.
He inherited the swift sword speed of the Sword Drawing Art and the Evil-Warding Sword Manual, but it was not as gloomy and strange as the Evil-Warding Sword Manual.
Avici said three times!
The evil of evil, the devil of devils, turned into a Shura, forever falling into the Avici.
Ye Feng couldn't interpret hatred into a beautiful illusion, but he could display his obsession and persistence in swordsmanship in his swordsmanship.
The first evil sword!
The second demonic sword!
The third killing sword!
It was a sword technique that was filled with the same demonic nature, and it was a sword technique that was equally decisive.
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