Chapter 5075 Mo Qingshan's Final Battle (2)

After ten thousand years, he thought that he had already cut off his love and only had his obsession.

But at this time, seeing the long-lost magic weapon of life, ripples still appeared in my heart.

Qing Mingjian seemed to sense the fluctuations in his mood, and it was humming and trembling.

Threads of emotion were transmitted to his heart.

It is missing, it is grievance, it is longing, it is the killing heart with lofty aspirations.

Ten thousand years have passed, and Qing Mingjian did not know when it gave birth to a weak artifact.

However, this artifact spirit was abandoned and sealed by him for ten thousand years.

At this moment, there is no resentment at all, only excitement and closeness.

Mo Qingshan's body at the moment has no joy, anger, sorrow and joy, and he can hardly feel the pain.

But at this moment, he felt that his soul seemed to be pierced by a needle somewhere.

Subtle pain.

Mo Qingshan closed his eyes, raised the Qingming sword in his hand, looked at Muyan, and said solemnly: "Jun Muyan, come on, as you wish, finish the final battle of our destiny. I hope you do your best. , don't be distracted by anything."

Muyan took a deep breath, and the seven swords around her slowly drew circles one after another.

And the sound of the Tianmoqin gradually changed from melodious to high-pitched and sharp.

Chong——!

The next moment, the two moved almost simultaneously.

The blade collided with the blade.

The world is in turmoil, and the situation changes.

The gate of the sky swayed slightly, sweeping more Yin Sha Qi.

The monks and mortals who had been hoping that Muyan would come to save him all the time, watched as Muyan and Mo Qingshan fought together.

The sound of the piano sounded, but none of the skills fell on them.

Their wounds were still festering and bleeding.

The ghouls among them lost the suppression of [Shu Jing Qi Huang] and gradually began to resurface.

The companions around them, comrades-in-arms, have become less and less.

However, this time, no one will come down from the sky to save them.

"Master, why...why didn't you save us?"

A monk with a broken arm knelt down on the ground and cried out in despair, "Aren't you Heavenly Dao? Are we not your people? How can you let our lives and deaths be ignored?!"

"What heaven's way! To put it bluntly, it's just a selfish ghost who only cares about his own life and death... No one will come to save us. What if the gate of the sky is closed, and the disaster of heaven is over? Are we still going to die? Hahahaha …”

"Goddess, save us! Please save us!"

"We all begged you like that, why didn't you save us... ah-!!"

"Damn the way of heaven! I don't believe it anymore! Go to hell, I can't live, I can't live, let's all go to die together, hahaha..."

The bottom was a mess.

Some monks even rushed to the mortal pile, wanting to catch mortals as their scapegoats.

Some are crying, some are praying, some are cursing...

When is the end of the world?

Ghoul ghosts are rampant, not when the calamity of heaven falls.

The monks died one by one, not even when there was not one out of ten.

Only when people's hearts are scattered, all hope is lost, and only the despair of sinking is left, that is the real end of the world.

Mu Yan, who was fighting Mo Qingshan in the air, suddenly felt that the power in her body had been taken away by someone.

Her figure was stagnant, and the Qingming Sword in Mo Qingshan's hand pierced her shoulders, bleeding like a stream.

Mu Yan quickly stepped back a distance, her chest heaving violently, and her face was as white as rice paper.