57 kill all

Wang Fan relied on the magic weapon obtained by eating black, and beat Feng Gang with no temper at all. Finally, when he was about to escape, he used a bundle of fairy ropes to tie him firmly.

"Who the hell are you? Which senior did you turn to?" Feng Gang didn't believe at all that the monks would have such a rich wealth during the Qi practice period: "I, Feng Gang, am a disciple of Elder Pan, and I may also make friends with the predecessors you have joined. We are flooded into the Dragon King Temple, and the family doesn't know the family."

Elder Pan is one of the twelve golden elixir monks of Lingxiao Pavilion. He is high and powerful, and there are many disciples. At this time, he pulled out this flag, which means both threatening and warning, but also a soft plea.

"Nonsense!" Before Wang Fan said anything, Yuan Hong came over with great care: "As a Jindan monk, Elder Pan only receives disciples who build the foundation. How can there be a disciple like you? Don't think that our brothers don't understand anything at the outer door!"

Speaking of which, Wang Fan really doesn't understand. Since he entered the Lingxiao Pavilion, he was first isolated by everyone, and then practiced "King Kong Refining Body Decision" alone in the back mountain. He basically did not contact and talk to people. He knew very little about some of the rules in the pavilion, especially those involving foundation construction and Jindan monks.

Yuan Hong naturally knew his situation. He was afraid that he would really be scared by the name of Elder Pan, so he took the lead in uncovering Feng Gang's lies.

In fact, he is too careful. In this kind of wind and snowy weather, Hong Qian specially chose a remote place. There is no one on the road. It is a good opportunity to kill people. How can Wang Fan have a woman's benevolence?

"I don't care what you have to do with Elder Pan." Wang Fan snorted coldly, "The mountains here are high and dangerous. I killed you. Who knows? I don't believe that Pan Neng can count!"

"Don't" Feng Gang was about to cry: "This is a misunderstanding, a misunderstanding! We have no grievances or enmity. How could I come to kill you? It's Hong Qian. It's all because he played tricks in it. Let me go and I'll kill him with my own hands. In this way, you should believe me!"

Wang Fan showed a hesitant expression: "What do you know? If you want to live, say it first!"

"Big boss, you can't be a woman's benevolent." Yuan Hong grabbed him, shook his head and whispered.

Feng Gang's forehead was covered with sweat. He stared at Wang Fan and Yuan Hong. He saw that the two had a conflict in dealing with his own problems, but Wang Fan was obviously the main among the two. He hurriedly shouted, "I said, I just begged Brother Wang for mercy, and I would never hide anything!" With that, he shook out all the details.

"Sure enough, it is Zhao Yi's conspiracy in Baishan." Wang Fan snorted coldly and looked at Baishan, who was still struggling desperately in the mud: "Fatty, pull him up and ask him carefully."

Wang Fan pulled over the half-dead Baishan, Hong Qian, who had breath left, and the other two disciples who were lying on the ground and moaning, and tortured them one by one.

They were arrogant just now, shouting for the lives of Wang Fan and Yuan Hong, but in a blink of an eye, they became prisoners. No one was afraid of death. Then they scrambled to expose other people's plots. They all insisted that they were forced to come. Even Baishan cried bitterly that they were blinded by lard and never dared to have a next time.

"Next time?" Yuan Hong's fat face has lost the usual harmless smile: "You will never have another time." With that, he cut his head with a sword.

In the past, although Baishan was pretentious and invincible, he did not dare to trouble Wang Fan. Therefore, Yuan Hong, who had a good relationship with Wang Fan, became the object of his anger.

One newspaper returned another, and today his head was finally cut off by Yuan Hong.

The rest of the people were excited, their faces became whiter, and their whole body was like sieves. Even the two disciples came out of shit and urine, making them stink here.

Wang Fan's heart was like an iron stone. He ended the lives of the two people with a wave of his hand. Then he said to Feng Gang fiercely, "Today, I killed so many inner disciples. If it spreads, my life will definitely not be safe, --"

Before he finished his words, Feng Gang shouted, "I keep it secret, absolutely confidential. Even if I die, I won't say a word, I swear."

His lips trembled and he couldn't say anything: "Let me go, I'll kill Hong Qian with my own hands, so that they will have a share in their pursuit. I will never talk nonsense."

Wang Fan curled his lips and let him fall to the ground with just one sentence: "I don't think it's safe. Usually, I think only the dead are the best to keep secrets."

~~~~~~

Looking at the bloody corpses all over the ground, Wang Fan was a little disgusted. Although this was not the first time he had seen a corpse, it was the first time he had seen so much. Yuan Hong was nothing unusual, but his eyes turned blood red and looked ferocious.

"Hong Qian is also dead. How to deal with these bodies?" He asked.

Since he just learned that Wang Fan has cultivated his spiritual power, he has followed Wang Fan more determinedly. Now he is not only the head of the horse, but also obedient.

"Inner disciple, there are some things on you. Why don't we make a fortune first?" He was in business at home and was particularly fond of his belongings. He picked up Feng Gang's flying sword and gently stroked the proposal.

Wang Fan had this intention, and then took out several bodies with him.

Although the inner disciples are much richer than the outer disciples, they can't compare with the time when Wang Fanhei eats black. That is the whole family of a foundation monk. Not to mention others, those more than a dozen spiritual stones alone are enough for low-level monks to break their heads.

"Damn it, it's so poor that eight people came up with this thing!" Yuan Hong looked at a few garbage spiritual swords in front of him, and six bottles of serum were indignant, as if he had suffered a big loss: "Hong Qiantian is coaxed. I thought he had many good things, but he actually brought a spiritual sword."

Wang Fan didn't mutter like him, but he also felt that there was less washing liquid. The inner disciples almost supplied it in quantity, and he couldn't just put these bottles: "Is it in the residence? But when I change my mind, I don't think it's right. Cultivation is really a persistent thing, and cultivation resources should be carried with you. This is the common sense of the world of cultivation.

"There are horses in the woods. Maybe the lotion is there!" He said, "I'll burn the body clean. Let's go to the woods and have a look." As he spoke, he secretly carried out the flame, and a pale yellow flame appeared from his fingers.

Flame art and "Burning God" complement each other. Although he has not been practicing for a long time, he has made a small success. Of course, this small success is for his current spiritual power. With the further increase of spiritual power, the flame will gradually become larger, the color will gradually become darker, and even have a big fist, purple and black, and the fire is still It's not an ordinary fire, and the burning power is particularly strong, even in water.

Under the fire, the bodies of Baishan, Hongqian and others quickly disappeared, and finally only a pile of black ash was left, drifting away with the wind.

The snow was getting bigger and bigger, and the traces of the fight were quickly erased. Wang Fan and Yuan Hong checked it. After not finding any flaws, they came to the woods.

There are eight horses, all of which are fat and strong, all of which are good horses raised by Lingxiao Pavilion.

"Hong Qian really has two hands." Yuan Hong sighed: "These horses are for the people who go down the mountain. They can get eight at once. Now we are rich. It's hard to find such a thousand miles of money in the secular world."

In addition to practitioners, there are also some mortals in Lingxiao Pavilion. They live at the foot of the mountain and are specially responsible for some vulgar things. These horses are raised and used by them. Generally, they do not borrow them from others. Even low-level monks are not allowed to use them. Wang Fan and others have borrowed horses several times without success. Even this time they went down the mountain to defend the property of Qinglang City. I didn't borrow it either.

There was a luggage bag on the horse's back. Yuan Hong was talking, but his hand had already reached in.

"Haha, there's really something."