C252

Ten years of enduring humiliation could change anyone. Those who knew a lot about the Supreme Profound Scripture would never believe that he had not learned how to rein himself in after ten years.

The laughing voice wasn't very clear in the cold wind, but it made everyone's heart clench.

The Southern Hall slightly frowned, sensing that something was wrong. They immediately shouted, "Scatter the enemies!"

Yan Bugui's warning sounded almost at the same time, "Watch out!"

Their voices mingled, followed by Wen Wan's loud laughter.

"Beitang, it's hard for you to remember that I have a martial uncle like Tang Wu." Wen Wan bent his waist as he laughed. His wounds, which were already bleeding profusely, began to tear even more, but it was unable to stop his laughter. "I actually want to see how far your poison and mechanism techniques are inferior to those of the Tang Sect."

Huge rocks rolled down from the top of the mountain. Hundreds and thousands of concealed weapons were shot out from the stone wall. For a time, it covered the entire sky, and the aura of death enveloped everyone. The rumble of the boulder and the sound of the mechanism's activation covered Wen Wan's voice, and only a few people could hear it.

As long as those few people heard it, it would be enough.

"I suggest you stop the bleeding first, otherwise you won't be able to see the result." A black shadow sprang out from the stone wall without any warning, and the two swords in his hands cut open two wounds on Liu Gan's body as soon as he got up, before stabbing towards his throat.

Sick Wind supported Liu Ming's face with a kick. Just as he was feeling dizzy and had lost his weapon, all he could do was to dodge again and again and escape with his life being taken by the fierce killing move.

Southern City immediately rushed to Liu's side, while Yan Bugui looked at the sky full of Life Stealing Weapons as he walked towards Wen Wan.

"You …" Seeing Yan Bugui and an arrow flying towards him, Wen Wan immediately chose to ignore the arrow that would hit his left shoulder, and used his sword to block Yan Bugui's attack. Unexpectedly, Yan Bugui actually raised his blade to block the arrow. He looked at Wen Wan with a burning gaze, as if he had many things to say.

After a moment of hesitation, Wen Wan stopped laughing, and then burst into laughter: "Today, one of us will die, and when that time comes, I will know what to do."

Yan Bugui did not expect him to say this the moment he opened his mouth. After a short silence, he also smiled and said, "Then there's nothing to say."

Wen Wan raised his hands and made a "dig" gesture with his two fingers towards his eyes. "I will watch you die." It didn't matter if he was alive or dead today.

Yan Bugui gave a faint smile and said, "I also hope that there will be a hell or a hell for us to live another life."

"I was joking." Wen Wan's smile was somewhat casual, "A dead person is just a pile of bones, a pile of loess. The people who left before me are like this, and the people who will pay their respects to me in front of my grave will be the same."

Yan Bugui looked at him deeply and said, "If I didn't kill you, I would have been killed by you. I don't want to kill you."

Wen Wan raised his chin. "If you didn't have the intention to kill me, I wouldn't have to kill you." He leaped over Yan Bugui's shoulder, looked into the distance and said, "But I have a clear conscience."

Yan Bugui subconsciously looked back, only to see the hidden weapons that had become sparse, and the corpses that covered the valley. He could no longer see those small mounds from ten years ago — he had come here many times in these ten years. Many times, he left after a long silence, leaving no trace behind.

He never touched the ground with wine. Perhaps, he really did feel guilty, afraid that the people below the netherworld wouldn't even be willing to drink the wine he offered. He didn't even dare to say that in these ten years, he really hadn't changed his mind.

After a long while, in his dazed state, he heard someone speaking behind him.

"You and I are enemies, blood feud." Wen Wan raised his leg and kicked Yan Bugui, who hadn't turned around yet, out. "If you want to kill me, you have to show your courage."

The first sentence was heard faintly in his ear, and the second one increased its volume in a similarly calm tone. Every word was exactly what Yan Bugui was listening to, not missing a single word.

"How is it? Still alive? " Nancheng withdrew and stood in front of him, throwing a porcelain bottle at him.

When Wen Wan saw him, he let out a breath of relief. He slowly slid down the stone wall with his back leaning against it, and his face became increasingly pale. "He won't die." Picking up the bottle, he poured half of it into his mouth and ate it along with the snow. He poured the other half into the snow and casually stirred the wound on his shoulder. This medicine takes the treatment of internal injury, the external application of hemostasis, see the effect is very fast, one day later will be high fever disease to fall. As the secret recipe of Wu Gou, every killer would bring a few bottles with them — except for someone who didn't think of themselves as Wu Gou killer.

Southern City looked at the group of assassins with worried expressions, "Unfortunately, I will still die soon."

As the three hall masters gave their orders, the three assassins appeared one after another. It was only a moment ago that Wen Wan had managed to pull out more than half of the energy. They didn't even go all out, yet there were nearly two hundred assassins, five times the number of people in the Southern City. If they were all sent out, it would be at least eight times more.

Wen Wan had set up many traps in the stone ridge, and although he had been caught off guard, his secret weapon was still a dead object. All of Candle's assassins had stepped on the corpses to this day, how could they possibly have suffered a large number of deaths and injuries because of Wen Wan's trap set up by a layman?

The mechanism could only reduce the disparity to three and a half times.

Wen Wan closed his eyes and rested for a while. His condition had improved a lot. "Even if I die, I don't need you to bury me."

When Southern City saw that Liu Feng had rushed over, they immediately rushed out and threw out a few hidden weapons to provoke the Southern Tang Dynasty, but they were still unable to hold back and scolded him: "I'm not afraid of your death, I'm afraid that we'll all die together with you!"

Now, among the Wu Hook, South City's martial arts was only second to the Supreme Mystery Scripture, but he didn't have the ability of Wen Wan to fight one against three and not be at a disadvantage. With his strength, it was already difficult for the hall masters of the West and South, who had consumed forty percent of their strength, to fight.

Wu Gou's assassin was now on par with Candle Haze. He had just hidden himself in the shadows and watched as Taixuan was drenched in blood. This had triggered the anger and killing intent in his heart. He was getting stronger, and his stamina was running out faster. At most, they would be reduced to lambs waiting to be slaughtered in two minutes.

Wen Wan smiled, his eyes still calm. "Trust me."

Nancheng took the time to glance at him, seemingly infected by his self-confidence and actually forced NanTang to take a few steps back. He threw a provocative look towards Sickly Wind Away and said in a loud voice, "Our Grand Master has said that he believes in him. Do you believe that Wu Gou can win?"

"I do!" The killer's answer was simple and cold, yet surprisingly sure.

Currently, Wu Gou was being pulled back from the afterlife by the Supreme Mystery Scripture. The Supreme Mystery Scripture was Wu Gou's hope and Wu Gou's soul. Wu Gou's killers had not completely obeyed him, but had complete trust in him.

Wen Wan looked at the Southern City and laughed helplessly. He really couldn't die.

He turned around and pressed some kind of mechanism. A crack appeared on the stone wall behind him. He pulled out Tang Dao and stabbed it into the ground. He then slowly got up, "Southern Tang, Beitang, come here."

Before the two people who were invited to the fight could react, Nancheng had already cursed out loud: "Are you going to rest properly? Do you really have to rush to your death?"

Wen Wan placed the blade on his shoulder, letting the blood soak into the handle. "You shut up."

Nancheng took a glance at Wen Wan's bloodshot eyes, and then straightforwardly retreated. "I'll shut up, and I'll give the West Tang to you as well!" After a few leaps, he dashed into the crowd that was battling in the distance.

The sick wind helped Liu Shisui not chase, but instead cast his gaze at Yan Bugui. Amongst the three of them, his strength was weaker than the Southern City. The Southern Hall was stronger than the Southern City, and Yan Bugui was the only one who was close to it. It was a perfect fight.

Yan Bugui didn't move. He tightened his grip on the blade and slightly narrowed his eyes, which were filled with killing intent.

Wen Wan was also staring at him, and with a flip of his hand, he pulled out a dozen silver needles from the back of his head and threw them on the ground, slowly turning his cold face into a bloody killing intent: "Do you dare to fight?"

Yan Bugui indicated to everyone that they did not need to help. Looking at that familiar face, he smiled and said, "Sure, I'll help you." With his left foot on the ground, he exerted his Qing Gong to the extreme, leaving behind an afterimage.

"You have to know who can help who!" Wen Wan loosened the handle of the knife, allowing it to slide down his back and into the snow. He rubbed his hands on his waist, and could only smell the cicada's chirping. The cicada's flapping knives filled the sky, refracting the light that sought his life.

Yan Bugui appeared in front of him in the blink of an eye. He sidestepped the two cicada wing blades and chopped them down, leaving no leeway.

Wen Wan did not retreat, but instead, he took 'Hengxue' and held it in his hand, ignoring the blade wind that was already close to the middle of his forehead, as he swung Tang Zheng's blade at Yan Bugui's waist.

On the other hand, the spectators of the battle couldn't see how Wen Wan's long blade could simultaneously wound his opponent at such a high speed, just like Yan Bugui did. Yan Bugui only borrowed the force of Qing Gong to hack him down, but Wen Wan had already picked up Tang Dao from the ground and was cutting him horizontally. Before the fight, South Tang only needed to avoid two cicada wing blades, but Wen Wan threw out no less than ten cicada wing knives at the same time. The complexity of them was difficult to compare.

After many exchanges of blows, the South Tang knew very well that the Flowing Winged Saber was very ingenious. The blade was as thin as paper, and the sound of breaking wind was ten times weaker than that of a cicada. Furthermore, the blade was double-edged and the weight of the handle was different. Therefore, it could be used to circle and turn in the air. What was even more exquisite was that his cicada blade was not of the same style, and there was a difference in its weight and size.

There were quite a few experts in the martial arts world who specialized in using roundhouse weapons. Such an exquisite hidden weapon wasn't unique to any family. Of all the projectiles, the Gyroscope was the most difficult to master, and the smaller the weapon, the harder it was to control. If it had the effect of both bewitching the opponent and breaking the wind, then the requirement of the user's eyesight and hearing ability would be many times more harsh.

The cicada blade could be said to be the number one existence among all the cyclones, but few could match it. It could be said that each of these secret weapons was worth thousands of gold. Unless it was an instant before death, anyone with such a hidden weapon would not use it as a one-time use hidden weapon. In fact, he would rather die in the concealed weapon sack than throw it away.

The south hall was not sure whether Wen Wan used a few kinds of cicada wing knives, but he knew that there were already three. The degree of toughness, the range of throw, and the sound of wind breaking were all different. However, it was inevitable that they would all fly back into the hands of their masters.

Heavily wounded, fighting with all his might, what remaining power did Wen Wan have to take back his ten cicada blades?

Once there was a trick, the cicada's wing knife broke his own life.