C955
C955
How could he be so familiar with the ways of the battlefield?
Not to mention those from a powerful family, even if it were a disciple from the Western Lion Palace, at his age, he still would not have such abilities!
"This good brother of mine, just who is he!"
Bai Xiu Li even felt a trace of fear. Even the cultivators of the An Tian Sect could direct the construction of the building, he really couldn't think of any kind of monster that could train their disciples like this. "Where are you from and where are you going?" What is your goal for nurturing such a sect? "
Bai Xiu Li could not understand these questions.
But at least he knew one thing.
Never be an enemy of Cheng Qing in your life.
Otherwise, he would have died a miserable death.
Bai Xiuli's expression became firm.
If they could not defend this battle, then even if Sun Moon City was defeated, there was no need for them to complain.
Everyone did their best, the best they could, the last bit.
With this thought, Bai Xiuli's body suddenly gained some strength.
There was no need to waste time directing the construction of a defensive line, so he might as well go and kill to his heart's content! To have such a good brother, to be able to fight alongside such a good brother, even if it was Boneyard of Bones, it was still a happy occasion!
"… …"
The Uighur army didn't slow down in the slightest, even in the face of the heavily fortified lines of land they occupied. Under the orders of the Yershalaim, they organized a fierce attack in a very short period of time.
The tide crashed into the embankment, the waves rolled onto the rocks, and what was sent flying was not a white wave but a scarlet fog of blood. The warriors of both sides were fighting on the walls, and the restless scene seemed to have turned Purgatory upside down.
In the darkness of the night, under the green curtain of the green fox's gray curtain, in front of the dark and gloomy marketplace, the Origin Energy on the long and narrow battlefield glowed like silk, like a river of stars hanging upside down, like cooking oil.
Fighting and fighting took place in the streets. There were people fighting and fighting on the rooftops, people bleeding and falling in the yards, people rampaging through the rooms.
The fallen flowers and trees splashed into the lake and the autumn water, and the collapsed academy wall buried the corpse on the ground. Scattered horizontal wooden rubble splashed all over the ground, and the burning eaves of the windows fell down with a loud bang, causing the soaring flames to ignite the armor of the armored warriors.
The warrior who broke his leg opened his bloody beak and bit the leg of his enemy, and pulled his comrades who were still in the pool of their blood up, roaring as he rushed into the experts who had charged into the battle formation together.
Warriors with bloodstains all over their faces charged forward, cultivators with one arm lost charged forward, warriors with bloodstains all over their clothes charged forward, cultivators with blood stains all over their bodies charged forward, cultivators who were unwilling to back down rushed forward to fight.
As the battle continued, more and more lunatics appeared on the battlefield. There were less and less rational people, and it became instinctive to wave the weapons in their hands. They howled while slashing away their enemies' heads. Their swords stabbed into each other's bodies. They howled as their chests were pierced by sharp arrows. They howled as their bodies stepped on the muddy ground. They were still howling.
Fighting was a duty, fighting was driven by instinct. When the walls became flat land, the houses became ruins, the flames burned by the sides, the battle scenes of both sides filled one's vision, the shouts and cries of the battle shattered the eardrums, no one could remember who they were or where they had come from.
To kill all the enemies that could be seen in front of you, or to be killed by your opponent in front of you, that was the true destination of your life.