Chapter 1072 Hero Tomb

boom!

The rumbling sound was like thunder, resounding through the heavens.

Ye Chen, who was even smaller than the gravel, smashed the magic pillar that held the sky and collapsed.

The world was in turmoil, and a dark halo spread out from Beizhen Cangyuan unrestrictedly. Wherever it passed, the demons disappeared in pieces, whether it was a demon soldier or a demon general, if it was contaminated with that dark halo, It will instantly turn into fly ash, and no trace will be found.

No...no no....!

In the dim world, full of such terrifying roars, the demon soldiers will roar in despair.

The Optimus Pillar is the root of the Heavenly Demon's invasion of Da Chu. It was destroyed, and so was the Heavenly Demon who was in Da Chu. This is why the Heavenly Demon tried its best to protect the Optimus Demon Pillar from beginning to end.

It was a huge and terrifying picture.

Overlooking the sky, the demon soldiers who covered the earth seemed to be flattened by an invisible big hand.

asshole!

In the emptiness, there seemed to be such a voice, cold and majestic.

That should be a great emperor of the Demon Domain, who was about to come to Da Chu, but failed to come because of the destruction of the Optimus Pillar.

I don't know how long it took before the roar of this land was annihilated, and there was no more demon in Da Chu.

The world fell into a dead silence for a moment.

Da Chu's eyes were devastated, and wherever it entered the eyes, it was covered in blood.

The broken Dachu battle flag is still screaming in the wind, stained with the blood of Dachu cultivators. Those who used to be alive one by one, but now they are all lying on this land.

In a corner of the earth, Ye Chen lay there quietly.

He is not dead yet, his messy white hair, dyed with blood, covers half of his vicissitudes of life. He looks so old and so tired, as if he will sleep for ten thousand years.

He won, but he did not disappoint the people of all regions, and paid back the blood debt for the 90,000,000 heroic souls of Great Chu.

The breeze blew gently, as if with Yiren's call, swaying his blood-stained white hair, and caressing his riddled holy body, hoping that he, who was tired from the vicissitudes of life, could sleep more peacefully.

break!

In the end, the silence of this land was broken by a cold shout.

The Tianxuanmen was unsealed, and a dazzling beam of light penetrated into the sky, breaking through the cage that covered the sky, poking out a big hole in the ethereal sky, and the chaotic clouds that covered the sky were also removed. open.

Immediately, a dazzling ray of sunlight penetrated the earth. This should be the first ray of sunlight since the invasion of the demons.

The chaotic clouds are constantly dissipating, revealing the blue sky, the warm sunshine pouring over the whole earth, and the dim Great Chu, after going through the catastrophe of the demons, sees the light again.

God appeared! God appeared!

Once again, the light filled the world, and the mortals squatted one piece after another, kneeling devoutly, hoping that God would not bring disaster.

It's just, how do they know that the immortals in their mouths have paid a terrible price to see the light again in this world. Every ray of sunshine is exchanged for the blood of countless cultivators of Chu. Can't erase the dazzling blood red between the day and the ground. Genius one second to remember 噺バ一Chinese m.x/8/1/z/w.c/o/m/

Under the sunshine, the sleeping Ye Chen was taken away.

Da Chu's world is still quiet.

I don't know how long it took before I heard the wailing sound.

look away,

It was in twos and threes, all young monks, looking for their relatives in the sea of ​​​​corpses.

There are still monks in Dachu, but they are negligible, and they are basically young monks. The ones who fought against the demons and charged were their ancestors. After the catastrophe, they survived.

With the demise of the demons, more and more young monks set foot on the land of Northern Chu, searching in the vast world, crying endlessly.

Southern Chu.

Ye Chen lay quietly on the ice jade bed, motionless like an ice sculpture. Since he was brought back, he has slept for nine days.

During these nine days, he slept very peacefully, and the broken holy body was constantly restored in the deep sleep, but the dark wounds from the battle with the emperor were imprinted on his bones, and they could not be erased overnight.

In front of Bingyu's bed, there was a beautiful figure, and upon closer inspection, it was Xiong Er's wife, Tang Ruxuan.

She is one of the few survivors of the Dachu cultivator. In the entire Hengyue Sect, except for Ye Chen, she is the only one who is still alive. She found Ye Chen, but she did not find her husband.

There was a petite figure beside her.

It was Ruoxi, not a monk, but a survivor. At this moment, she was looking at Ye Chen on the ice jade bed with big eyes, and sometimes she would stretch out her small hand to touch Ye Chen's face.

On the tenth day, when Ye Chen was sleeping, his little finger trembled slightly.

The next moment, he tiredly opened his eyes, some cloudy eyes, with a touch of vicissitudes of confusion.

"Junior Brother Ye, you're awake." Tang Ruxuan, who was standing beside the Bingyu bed, hurried forward.

"Where is this." Ye Chen's voice was hoarse.

"Hengyuezong." Tang Ruxuan smiled with tears in her eyes, her face very haggard. New 81 Chinese website updates the fastest Computer: https://

"Hengyuezong." Ye Chen murmured, his heart tingling for a while, and he didn't dare to look Tang Ruxuan in the eyes. Her husband fought with him, he was his brother, but buried in a foreign land.

Suddenly, he stepped off the ice jade bed and stepped out of the attic.

Today's Hengyue is already dilapidated. More than 90% of the spiritual mountains and palaces and pavilions have collapsed, and there is a mess everywhere. Where is the Hengyue Sect like a fairyland in the past.

Without saying a word, he walked out of Hengyuezong with his feet up, his head full of white hair, and his back looked bleak and estimated.

On the land of Southern Chu, he walked endlessly, went to the headquarters of Tianting, went to Qingyunzong and Zhengyangzong.

Almost every corner of Nan Chu left his back.

Everywhere he went, he would stop for a long time. On the devastated land, he could vaguely see one after another familiar figure and one after another familiar faces, interweaving an unforgettable memory for him.

After traveling all over Southern Chu, he set foot on the land of Northern Chu.

In today's Dachu cultivator world, looking around, it is difficult to see cultivators again.

The huge land is too empty and deadly silent.

Just like in Southern Chu, the land of Northern Chu is also devastated, no more cities, no more complete mountains, great mountains and rivers, slaughtered by hateful wars.

He walked endlessly, and every inch of the ground he stepped on was stained with the blood of Da Chu cultivators. The 90 million Da Chu ying souls included his lovers, disciples, masters, brothers and ancestors.

His eyes blurred.

What kind of world is this, this land should not be like this, it should have fresh life, there should be laughter.

Of course, the vivid life that should be there, the laughter that should be there, but in the memory of the vicissitudes of life, it has turned into a riddled mourning, which has been passed down from generation to generation, and lamented for it from generation to generation.

He walked all the way and picked up all the way, like a late old man, like a poor scavenger, picking up the remaining blood and bones of the undead, picking up the weapons of the heroic soul before he was alive, he wants to put them away, then It was them who fought to the last drop of blood for the continuation of this land.

With the breeze blowing, he gently raised his hand and grabbed the ground.

hum!

With the turmoil of the earth, a stone tablet was condensed, and it was tens of thousands of feet, standing upright.

He waved his palm, and with heavy grief, carved three words on the tombstone: Hero Tomb.

He didn't leave, and stood quietly in front of the ten thousand zhang tombstone, holding a bamboo knife in his hand, and kept drawing on the tombstone. It was a personal name. They died for this land and should be remembered by future generations.

Tang Ruxuan also came and engraved Xiong Er's name with tears.

In the silent night, the surviving young monks came one after another, each holding a bamboo knife, and each was full of tears. One stroke at a time, a personal name was engraved on the hero's tombstone.