Chapter 865 - 815: Alas, How Bitter, How Sad, How Painful! (3)

No reservations whatsoever.

This seemingly ordinary strike actually concentrated all the monk’s lifetime skills.

Manipulating snow and wind.

Integrating the power of nature into his attack.

Such a strike carries with it an extreme mental state.

Indeed.

Extreme.

From the moment of slaughter, the monk became extreme.

The so-called compassionate heart disappeared ever since the Zen Stick was tainted with innocent blood.

Since three days ago, he completely degenerated into a mad demon.

In the killing, he sought to release the shadow that blinded his mind, seeking the emotional release of a walking corpse.

Does he want to create slaughter?

Does he want to cause chaos in the Martial Arts World?

Does he know he’s overturning Huaxia’s stability?

He doesn’t want to, he knows.

But he has no choice!

Only by continuing down this path of being a dog can he best protect his old brother, the Demi Immortal!

Loyalty, loyalty, often you cannot have both the fish and the bear’s paw.

Choosing loyalty means betraying righteousness, he cannot do it!

So he prefers to betray the world, rather than betray the rebirth grace of Qilian Demi Immortal!

He doesn’t know where he should go, nor does he know what his fate will be in the end.

Just like the old drunkard, he only wants to crazily continue down this path destined to be cast into the eighteen layers of Hell, then wait for salvation to come naturally!

"Winter is coming! Sweep across a thousand armies, die!"

With a furious shout, when the energy of heaven and earth merged into this Divine Skill, he madly roared.

The biting cold wind was transformed into rays of blade light amid the shout.

Those inconspicuous snowflakes froze into pillars.

Sweeping across all directions with Qin Fan at the center, unleashing an endless fierce power in a wild assault.

"Staff, come!"

The handsome face became incomparably cold in the gloom.

Qin Fan shouted.

The Evil Spirit Zen Staff overturned the monk’s cognition, appearing out of thin air.

Straightforwardly in a hum tremble adhered to Qin Fan’s hand.

No unnecessary words.

Holding the Evil Spirit Zen Staff.

Qin Fan leaped straight up like pulling a green onion from dry land.

Facing those blade lights formed by wind, facing those ice pillars formed by snow.

He gripped the Evil Spirit Zen Staff with both hands, furiously blasted forward!

boom-!

clang-!

crack-!

Seamless connecting sounds rang out.

Only saw the Divine Skill formed by snow and wind in front of Qin Fan immediately dissolved.

The blade light ice pillars shattered the power of God Realm back to the original form of snow and wind.

At this, the monk was slightly stunned in incomprehensible astonishment.

But in the next breath.

His body, dancing the staff forward, also soared into the air.

Facing Qin Fan who held the staff and flashed in, he shouted, "If I die at your hand today, I take your nine lifetimes of grace! In the next life, I will repay as cattle and horses!"

"As you wish!"

Qin Fan responded with a deep voice.

With the fall of the words.

bang!!!

The two Zen Staffs collided with each other in their wielding and swinging.

Jingling sounds echoed around heaven and earth.

splurt-!

In the next second.

The hand that held the Zen Staff trembled violently.

A mouthful of fresh blood was madly spurted from the mouth.

Half spilled onto the Zen Staff.

Half spilled onto the falling snow.

"I send you off, go well!"

Looking at the monk whose face suddenly turned bloodless.

Qin Fan shouted again.

The force that was originally infused only three or four parts into the Evil Spirit Zen Staff launched into an empowering stance!

With the fall of the words.

The Evil Spirit Zen Staff madly hummed and trembled.

Sweeping with that vast invincible might, overwhelming the Zen Staff horizontally in front of the monk!

swish-!

The monk who clung tightly to his Zen Staff couldn’t bear it any longer.

Under the pressure of the Evil Spirit Zen Staff.

Instantly fell rapidly.

Under the impact of Nascent Soul True Qi.

The entire body with the swish sound already deeply buried into the snow.

Only leaving the head outside.

splurt-!

In the rapidly fading vitality.

The monk, with only a head exposed outside, spurted another mouthful of Essence Blood.

At this time, Qin Fan landed on the ground.

Right in front of the monk’s head.

"Thank you!"

Struggling with the very last bit of breath.

The monk wanted to raise his head but found he no longer had the strength.

At the moment, he could only look at Qin Fan’s calves and weakly utter these two words of thanks.

After the words.

A smile appeared.

Just like the old drunkard before death.

Full of relief!

With a relieved smile.

Accompanied by the dissipation of that word of thanks between heaven and earth.

The monk’s head slumped forward.

His breath, thus scattered!

Following the old drunkard, two of the four mighty protectors of the former Guardian Institute were gone.

swoosh swoosh swoosh-!

swoosh swoosh swoosh-!

In the desolate downhill snow.

The swooshing sound suddenly arose.

With blood oozing from the corners of his mouth, Hua Xiaotian dragged his almost collapsed body.

Slowly, step by step, walking towards Qin Fan’s rear.

No longer shouting hysterically.

Nor crying his heart out.

Perhaps, he had already shouted all his energy and cried out all his tears under the corpse of the old drunkard.

"On the previous call, Old Wang said they could be laid to rest at Eight Treasures Mountain!"

Looking at Hua Xiaotian, whose eyes lost their light, Qin Fan spoke softly.

"Yes, I want to first bury them, then choose a good day to relocate back to Beijing!"

Gazing at the monk whose head slumped, Hua Xiaotian’s voice was hoarse and sorrowful.

No more words spoken.

Qin Fan stomped by the monk’s side!

Rustle rustle rustle-!

Instantly, snowflakes surged scattering, vast white blanketed the surroundings.

The body of the monk buried in the snow burst out.

No need for Qin Fan to say more.

Hua Xiaotian quickly leaped up to hold the monk’s body.

Then, without a word, he dashed afar.

Following the treatment of the old drunkard.

Buried, staked a monument, kowtowed.

Then he returned to Qin Fan’s side.

"Next stop, Western Tibet!"

Without any emotional fluctuation he said.

Qin Fan’s body vanished immediately in the vast snow with the word Dao Luo.

.....

"Dao that can be told, is not the eternal Dao! Name that can be named, is not the eternal name!"

"What sadness is there in life, what suffering is there in death!"

"Is this mundane world created by fate, or does fate decide creation?"

"Where should life go, where can death follow? Alas, the suffering, the grief, the pain!"

"Alas, I am not loyal; suffer I am not kind; grieve I am not filial; pain I in my righteousness!"

"Haha, hahaha!"

In a certain cave in Western Tibet.

The biting Northwest wind poured into the cave.

Layer upon layer of sounds transmitted from inside the cave.

The person making the sounds was sobbing.

On his face, tear stains were everywhere.

He did not wipe them, as if totally oblivious.

His free and unrestrained white robe was stained with bloody splatter.

Like plum blossoms painted on the clothes, purely adding a few artistic touches.

At this moment, he’s staggeringly.

Step by step walking out amid flowing tears, shouting that unmatched voice lamenting the world.

Behind him, at the depths of the cave.

Several men and women with their throats cut sat limply against the stone wall.

Eyes unable to close gazed directly at the back of the old man in the white robe.

They seemed to be questioning, why?

Why even hiding in such a place can’t avoid this undeserved calamity!

Outside the cave.

Qin Fan stood with an expressionless face.

He did not delve inside, quietly waiting for the nearing sound to reveal itself.

Beside Qin Fan, Hua Xiaotian gripped his fists tightly, listening to the myriad sounds transmitted, tears streaming down from his eyes- two lines!