"Hiss, it's so cold!"

"Damn it, we have to wait for an hour and a half, right?"

"There must be some. It has been timed out for a long time. I feel that Ba Zunzhen will not come..."

Around Lingyu Mountain, in the cold wind and snow, there are thousands of figures that are beginning to look restless.

These people come from all over the five regions, and their auras are extremely powerful. Most of them arrived during the waiting period. Among them are ancient sword cultivators and spiritual refiners, with average combat power above the throne.

You have to be at the Throne Realm or above who boasts some means and the ability to protect yourself before you dare to appear on the frontal battlefield.

At this moment, there are also many people occupying good positions, opening palm apricots, golden apricots preaching scenes, conveying the real-time battle situation to the five realms, and they are all whispering something.

The pictures of each preaching show and the number of people watching the battle were in the hundreds of thousands or millions.

For those like Matchmaker who had made a name for themselves before, temporarily hired semi-saint masters to guard them, and returned to Lingyu Mountain with great force, the real-time number of people watching the Golden Apricot Mission screen exceeded eight digits.

But whether they are on the scene or through the preaching screen, the greater the expectations of the spectators, the greater the disappointment!

"Why haven't you shown up yet?"

The matchmaker murmured, "Eighth Sword Immortal, or Master Shou, any one will be fine..."

Everything is ready, all we need is the east wind.

The situation is so depressing, so deadlocked, so anxious.

Regardless of whether they were saint slaves or non-saint slaves, everyone was pulled to Fang Lingyu Mountain either actively or passively.

This is like the driest firewood in the five regions, all piled up in Lingyu Mountain. Whenever there is a little fire, it is not crackling, but a booming earthquake, just like a volcanic eruption, which is enough to detonate the entire Holy God Continent!

There was no flame, not even sparks...

They all seemed to be scared off by the words Huachangdeng.

The whispers are from the spectators on Lingyu Mountain who dare not speak loudly. Across the preaching screen, discussions among the apricots from various families are now in full swing:

"So the side that was revealed just now is already the limit of the Eighth Sword Immortal. If he really wants to face the Holy Emperor of Shanghua head-on, he actually doesn't have the confidence?"

"Brother, this is the true form of the Holy Emperor. Who can be completely sure? If he doesn't come, the Eighth Sword Immortal can still be a legend. But if he comes, the legend will die!"

"But everyone is waiting, is he really embarrassed to be a coward?"

"Hmph, I didn't believe it before, but now it seems like, how can I put it, anyway, I think Hua Changdeng has given enough face, but Bazun Shu is a bit ignorant!"

"Sure enough, I predicted it, and my evaluation is: The eight masters of waste!"

"You have something to say, but you don't even dare to show your face. You are indeed a piece of trash! Not as good as Shou Ye's chicken feathers!"

"Yes, although Mr. Shou also hid, he is young and can be forgiven."

"Excuse me, I have to free up one hand to watch the battle when I steal someone in the master's house. Don't you understand the eight gods? It's a waste of my time! Damn..."

As time goes by, the discussion has become completely one-sided by this time, and not many people are optimistic about the Eighth Sword Immortal, Shou Ye.

Because with the temperament of the two of them, the problem has already been explained within an hour.

If it times out for so long, there must be a big problem.

If you come, you will probably lose!

"Oh."

Under the spotlight of everyone, the lanterns with hundreds of preaching scenes pointed at them were like sculptures in the wind and snow, standing still for a long time.

Suddenly, he moved.

He breathed out a sigh of relief, raised his eyelids slightly, and the flying snow fell on his body. The hearts of those watching the battle from all over the five regions suddenly lifted.

Everyone realized that before the sparks fell, Emperor Hua Sheng's anger was ignited!

"Mr. Siren, you should know what I want to say."

Hua Changdeng still holds the copper lamp, and the hunting ghost quietly hangs it on his waist. He looks calm, but his words are full of edge:

"An hour has passed long ago. I have given you the respect of the Eight Masters."

"Take my sword, and for half an hour, I will give you your face."

"I don't have much patience anymore."

Opposite him, far away in the middle of a group of young ancient sword cultivators, the Meisi people had blood-stained temples and tattered clothes.

A bloody hole the size of a newborn baby's head was opened in his chest. His chest was visible through his back, and even a beating heart was faintly visible.

Although the blood color had stopped, there was sword energy looming across the wound, preventing it from recovering.

"Ho...ho..."

People in Meisi take in more Qi and less Qi out, so they hold their swords with their hands.

Taicheng Jian could only barely support his body to prevent him from lying on the ground and fainting like Xiao Kongtong next to him, so as to retain the last bit of the ancient sword cultivator's character.

In fact, the eyes of Meisi people were turning black from time to time, and anyone with a discerning eye could tell that this old man was not going to die soon.

"Elixir! Elixir!"

Xiao Wanfeng shouted back several times urgently.

Mr. Siren has a good reputation in the five domains. Immediately from a distance, Taixu, a wealthy family, threw another golden bottle to help the poor ancient sword cultivator.

Xiao Wanfeng poured out the medicine and fed it to the old man: "Mr. Siren, this time it's God's blessing... Eat it, eat it quickly, you can live longer!"

People around looked silent.

A piece of God's blessing can only save Meisi's life for half a quarter of an hour, but what's the point of insisting on waiting for help?

Hua Changdeng can destroy Mei Si, the first echelon of ancient sword cultivators in the Five Regions, with one sword, and the eighth sword immortal, what if Master Shou is really here?

"Gulu."

The Meisi people swallowed the elixir.

Once the medicinal power is refined, I immediately feel refreshed.

The tinnitus faded away, the dizziness decreased, and the three strange black spots that obscured the world in front of me were reduced by half...

In good condition!

Mei Siren touched his chest and stretched out his hand to touch his back. It was such a novel experience. He quickly pulled it back and accidentally touched his beating heart...

"hiss!"

It was like having chili pepper sprinkled on the wound, it was burning and painful.

interesting!

It’s getting a little hot!

Mei Si didn't even lower his head at all. He pulled out the Taicheng Sword and asked in a low voice to the young man next to him whose face he couldn't see clearly: "It's time, isn't it?"

"Yeah!" Xiao Wanfeng nodded heavily, "I arrived half an hour early, but he actually gave me a little more time..."

"Be particular about it."

Mei Siren nodded, then his eyes were clear, his chest was straightened, his abdomen was straightened, and he returned to look at Hua Changdeng with high fighting spirit: "Little Hua, the old man has recovered as before. One more sword attack, and it will take half an hour!"

hiss!

When this sentence came out, everyone who was watching the battle in Qingyuan Mountain or watching through the screen took a breath of cold air.

Old man, are you serious?

How dare you stick your chest out when there is such a big bloody hole in your chest?

This bleeding, God’s blessing and hematopoietic power are all making ends meet!

"Where are the Eight Masters?"

"Why should Mr. Si Ren take the lead? He is just an old man and he can't carry it anymore!"

"Speaking of the younger generation, why doesn't anyone dare to stand up and take the sword? What about Gu Qing'er? Isn't he also a swordsman? Why is he so timid?"

"That's right. If you want to exchange time for war and still want to wait for those two losers, then let's have a wheel-to-wheel battle. Why are you relying on the hot-blooded old man to support you?"

"Is this era a disease? Young people are so useless?"

"..."

The matchmaker didn't even dare to take another look at Jin Xing's comments. These people were completely extreme.

Even Mr. Siren can't catch Hua Changdeng's sword. How can anyone in the younger generation be able to catch it?

The only ancient sword cultivator in the field who might be capable of fighting...

She secretly glanced at Gou Wuyue.

The old god Wuyue Sword Immortal is here, as if the matter has nothing to do with him. It is true that he is not a slave of the saint, and there is no need to be involved in such a vortex.

"Meisi people!"

Hua Changdeng's tone was quite impatient: "If you want to die, I can help you, but before you die, do what you say, go back to the Ancient and Modern Wangyou Tower, and call out the Eight Masters."

Mei Siren stepped forward and was about to speak when the wound was pulled and he grimaced in pain. He couldn't even maintain his image and almost fell to the ground.
To be continued...