C263 Mo Juntu's Death

However, Yuen Xiaotian was still Yuen Xiaotian after all. The Dragon-scale Sword in his hand was unpredictable. Under the pincer attack of the two swords, he could be considered calm and composed.

In the blink of an eye, three hundred moves had passed. If this continued, perhaps the four matches would take a few days.

The cold wind was biting cold. The high charcoal brazier was still burning. Everyone present was concerned about this first match. One had to know that the importance of winning the first match was indescribable. Everyone knew very well that the Eighteen Gangs would use Yuen Xiaotian as the vanguard, while the Southern Five Sects would send Mo Juntu.

Mo Juntu was Duan Junhou's second disciple, and his sword skills were second only to Qih Liang's. The Southern Five Sects had put a lot of thought into letting him take the lead.

Yuen Xiaotian held his sword horizontally and thought to himself, Mo Juntu's sword skills are superb. If he continues to fight, I'm afraid there will be more variables. " Therefore, he thought of a complete move.

He quickly took a few steps forward and thrust his sword forward. Mo Juntu moved back and swung his sword. There was a loud sound. Yuen Xiaotian chased after him and the Dragon-scale Sword in his hand looked at Mo Juntu's long sword with all his might.

One sword, two swords, ten swords. While Yuen Xiaotian dodged the soft sword, he kept chopping Mo Juntu's long sword. His moves were fierce and full of strength.

After thirty moves, Mo Juntu's long sword had been ruined. The Dragon-scale Sword that he had spent a lot of money on was showing its power.

Yuen Xiaotian swung his sword again. With a cracking sound, the long sword in Mo Juntu's hand split into two, and the two of them clashed with each other.

Yuen Xiaotian's sword stabbed into Mo Juntu's shoulder, but the soft sword was powerless in close combat. As for the broken sword, with the interference of the Dragon-scale Sword, it was very difficult for it to pose any threat.

The people from both sides stood up, watching what was happening on the stage.

Mo Juntu was worthy of being the inheritor of the two swords. He had pride and dignity. He rushed forward and the sword pierced through his shoulder blade. He used the broken sword in his hand to stab forward. The broken sword was drawn out, and blood flowed out.

"Why are you doing this?" Yuen Xiaotian said with a cold expression.

"I don't want to lose like this. " Mo Juntu had a ferocious look on his face. The tearing pain made his facial features distort.

Yuen Xiaotian sighed and looked at the broken sword inserted into his body. He could not help saying regretfully, "Winning and losing are common in war. Why do you have to do this?"

Mo Juntu moved back and blood gushed out. He struggled and said, "You must think it is not worth it for me to do this. "

Yuen Xiaotian nodded.

Mo Juntu smiled bitterly and said, "Many years ago, the four of us finally gathered together, but Hee Liutieh and I were on the grassland. There were still some things that had yet to be settled, so we could only wait for a few more years. "

As he said that, a trace of nostalgia appeared on his face, and he said, "When Master died, he felt that he was born at the wrong time. Poor dual swords are famous in the world, but they have never been the world's number one. "

Yuen Xiaotian's expression was sorrowful, and he waited for him to continue speaking.

After coughing for a while, Mo Juntu continued, "I cannot insult Master's reputation again and again. "

Yuen Xiaotian sighed endlessly and said meaningfully: "The Jianghu, the Jianghu. . . " He did not continue. He could only keep what he wanted to say in his heart.

Mo Juntu did not speak anymore. The dark clouds swam past, and the cold wind blew. After a while, snow fell. It was for the baptism of this duel.

Yuen Xiaotian looked at Mo Juntu who was standing on the arena. His face was expressionless. He held the broken sword in his hand. He was dead. He died quietly. His injuries weren't fatal, but he was still dead. Perhaps his grief was greater than his heart.

There was no sadness, no tears. Even Qih Liang and the rest of the disciples were silent.

Yuen Xiaotian carried Mo Juntu's corpse off the arena. He should respect the deceased.

A wave of restlessness, but it instantly died down. The abbot of Cangloong Temple stepped onto the arena and looked around. "It's getting late. Why don't both of you rest in the temple for the night and come back tomorrow to compete? What do all of you think?"

The Southern Five Sects had lost the first battle. Qih Liang and the others were not willing to give up, but Yaen Shunba wanted to use this chance to reorganize his forces.

Seeing that the people from the Eighteen Gangs did not respond, the abbot of Cangloong Temple pressed his palms together and said, "There are many people from the pugilistic world outside the temple. If any one of them does something unusual, I'm afraid that even if they win this battle, it will be difficult for them to gain a foothold in the pugilistic world. Chief Chu, please relax. "

Since he had said so, it would be a loss of face if he still had scruples, so he could only agree to this matter.

Late at night, the cold wind was blowing and the lights were shaking. All the houses were brightly lit. The people from the Eighteen Gangs and Southern Five Sects were patrolling non-stop.

On top of the high wall, there was a man sitting on top of it. His wide cloak was blowing against the wind, but he was not moved at all.

However, his eyes were red and his tears had frozen into ice, but he still did not want to wipe them away.

"I thought Qih Liang would really be indifferent. " Yuen Xiaotian jumped onto the high wall and handed over a pot of wine.

Qih Liang looked at the pot of wine in his hand and did not say anything for a while. Yuen Xiaotian smiled and said, "Don't tell me you are afraid that the wine is poisonous?"

Hearing this, Qih Liang took the wine pot and said, "It is not that I am worried that the wine will be poisonous, it is just that I never drink wine. "

Yuen Xiaotian smiled and said, "It's not an exaggeration to drink less when you're in a bad mood. "

Qih Liang drank the wine in one gulp. The wine was really strong. This was the first time he drank it. This feeling was very subtle. It was as if he had lost himself in the dense forest and suddenly saw a way out, but had lost his direction.

The two of them did not speak anymore. They looked at the dark sky and each had their own thoughts.

Suddenly, a person jumped out with a long sword in his hand. He said angrily, "Second senior brother died because of you. Die!"

Yuen Xiaotian took a closer look. This person was dressed like a Mongol, and he also called Mo Juntu second senior brother. He must be Hee Liutieh.

Before Yuen Xiaotian could speak, Qih Liang scolded from the side, "Fourth junior brother, don't be rude!"

Hee Liutieh was stunned, and then he asked, "Senior brother, if we work together now, we can definitely kill him. "

"Simple mind. " Qih Liang said again, "You and I are from the Twin Swords Sect. Working together with the Southern Five Sects has already humiliated our sect. Do we still need to lose face before we are willing to give up?"

Hee Liutieh angrily sheathed his sword and stood on top of the high wall without saying anything.

Yuen Xiaotian's eyes were deep. He had always been puzzled about one thing. Qih Liang and the other three had excellent sword skills. Why did they have to stay below Yaen Shunba?

Perhaps it was because heroes valued heroes. Qih Liang might have noticed his doubt and asked, "Mr Yuen, do you have something to ask?"

Yuen Xiaotian was in a dilemma, but he still asked, "Qi Daxia and his brothers could have established their own sect and spread the name of the dual swords. Why are they under the Southern Five Sects?"

Qih Liang's face twitched. After a long time, he slowly said, "Their skills are not as good as mine, so we have to keep our promise. "

"Oh?" Yuen Xiaotian was even more confused, but he did not ask any more questions.

The winter sun was cold and the cold wind was silent. The arena in Cangloong Temple was covered with a thin layer of frost. The brazier was emitting green smoke. Occasionally, a few flames would burn, but they seemed to be afraid of the cold and curled back into the pile of charcoal.

The sound of gongs and drums was heard. Eighteen Gangs and Southern Five Sects sat in separate rows. Hua Tianshou jumped onto the arena. His head was tied with white silk. His fellow disciples used this as a memorial to Mo Juntu's death.