Chapter 126: 124. Blind Man's Village, Widow's Village, Dead Son's Village (4K)

124. Blind Man's Village, Widow's Village, Dead Son's Village (4K)

All of this was too bizarre to believe. Even Wang Yang himself, had he been present, would surely have been startled. For when he had just first become a Dao Sovereign, his Divine Court was full, Dao Qi spanned the heavens, and his divine sense had thus spread in all directions, penetrating all of heaven and earth—yet he alone had failed to notice that there was still someone hidden within this canyon.

Li Feng considered it for a moment. When the time came, he would be by Zi Han's side, and Hai Zi would not be far from him either. And Fake Gold Tooth and Master Cai would also be seated at the main table as company. There were also many brothers disguised as servers and members of the Against the Wind Sect, so there should be no problem.

Li Feng walked back. By this time, Zi Yi had also run to Li Feng's side. "Brother Feng, how is your shoulder?" Zi Yi looked at Li Feng's blood-soaked arm, and tears streamed down her face.

Xiao Tianyao's footsteps paused as well. He glanced at the sky, found nothing unusual, then continued forward, saying at the same time: "Go ask what they're looking at." So many people raising their heads to look at the sky at the same time—there had to be a reason.

But before Song Gang could even fly up to the White Dragon Daoist's face, the White Dragon Daoist flicked a finger. With a clang, Song Gang rebounded like a bullet and was shot into the wall.

His whole body was covered in armor, armed to the teeth. Han Long looked himself up and down; it had been a long time since he had seen himself in this guise.

Those words, full of mockery and contempt, made the killing intent in Han Bingqian's heart burn even fiercer, as though he could not be at peace unless he flayed Xiao Tian and pulled out his tendons.

Meng Niu's analysis this time was spot on. Li Feng praised her for it, though he said what she had said was still not entirely correct.

"Why did it suddenly get so cold, like falling into an ice cave?" a burly, powerfully built man said.

The meaning of sword movement is that the sword follows the heart's intent; one merges sword intent into nature, drawing upon the power of nature to strike the enemy.

The one who could claim final victory was certain to be one of those two. The others knew well that the outcome of the match was already decided, and one after another they ceased fighting and withdrew from the arena.

Therefore, no player in the forums was saying they had been taken out by the nuclear weapon. The vast majority of players seemed not to have truly felt the might of the nuclear radiation's coverage.

The weather today was somewhat overcast. Thick layers of clouds pressed the sky down low, and the cold wind flew through the air like a sharp blade, letting out a shrill cry.

Actually, this New World activity of visiting the Super Game Center had never attracted much attention. New World had so many registered users, yet only 3,000 were chosen—the odds were even harder than applying for a test account. With such a low-probability event, it was no wonder players held out no hope.

A pixel art style familiar beyond familiarity, a login screen that could not be more minimalist, and that disgusting setting where every time you entered the development interface you had to name twenty games you had played.

But if the homestead land was scarce while the family had many children, that conflict could not be suppressed; sooner or later it would erupt.

A dozen or so large 8-meter-diameter shells flew toward the monster at sub-light speed, followed by several dozen thick, pale-purple energy beams. These were all TPC's fixed anti-space weapons.

"Wait a moment—could you first answer a few questions for us, so that we can set our minds at ease about taking part in the selection?" Hou Yan still knew how to speak well. Without knowing the other party's background, he did his best not to anger them.

"I ask you—why would you do such a shameful thing? Who is this wild man?" Could it be that this person's eyes were defective, that he had mistaken her for his own wife?

But Mo Yao's behavior today was simply not what a qualified "opponent" should have shown.

An outsider might not understand: if you're short on money, why retire? Retiring early means paying a huge, astronomical breach-of-contract fee—wouldn't that be even more of a losing proposition?

Mao Leyan walked to the Eight Immortals table, picked up the cup she had drunk from before, scraped the bloodstains from the cup's rim with her hand, then rubbed it between two fingers, and said thoughtfully: "It's cat blood." Cat blood is yin in nature, and is the best thing for treating a jiangshi's internal injuries. It seemed she had been hurt.

In Qinggang Prefecture City, the sky had not yet brightened. Although it was behind enemy-occupied lines, vigilance should not be relaxed—leaving only five hundred soldiers to guard such an important city was wrong.

But the power of that suona had already surpassed the limit that a Calamity-level being could match. They had only taken on some of the aftershock of the suona's sound and had nearly died; needless to say, they could not hope to face the suona head-on.

The wounds on Wang Yue's body grew worse and worse. The fresh blood flowing out had, unnoticed, already approached one-third of the blood in his entire body.

The feeling of taking drugs was wonderful—euphoric, as though one could do anything, as though nothing was impossible. But when one sobered up, one realized it was all an illusion, all a lie.

Ten years—wasn't that just from when Long Shaoyan had just moved in and started drinking it? What need is there to link it with ten years? Especially when it's a single tonic medicine.

"Although we didn't manage to negotiate passage rights to the Underworld King's Hall, I've already worked it out with Lord Ejgal—he has granted you special permission to leave the Gods' Peninsula early. Pack your things; in a bit, follow me to the airport." Lukas said.

And after she had licked the plate clean, she flew over to a plate of seasonings, dabbed a bit with her hand to taste it, seemed to find it unpalatable, frowned, and with one kick sent that plate of seasonings flying.

But now, that unease slowly rising in her heart, that fear, that loneliness, that helplessness, was bit by bit devouring the tiny sense of security that Yixia now possessed—the warmth and sense of security that she had only with such difficulty obtained from that person.

Yixia naturally also saw the fright in his eyes, because she had done it on purpose—she wanted to make an example of him, to kill a chicken to scare the monkeys. This trick she had learned from Chen Fangping. Now, checking the results, she looked at Ergouzi's almost deathly pale face and felt very satisfied.