Chapter 239 First Painting

Every time Su Ming's right hand is raised and his index finger is drawn, the nothingness in front of him will disappear like layers of diaphragms.

I don't know how long it has been, Su Ming's action of drawing the sword like a copy, from the beginning to the speed, gradually slow down.

Draw stroke by stroke. With the passage of time, Su Ming didn't know how many strokes he had drawn and how many copied swords he had drawn.

Although he doesn't know the details, he knows that every stroke he draws seems to be the same, but in fact it is different. If he draws a thousand strokes, a thousand strokes will be different. If he draws ten thousand strokes, ten thousand strokes will be different!

But he never found the sadness that Sima Yunhui exuded when he came out of this sword, and it seemed that he could not be integrated with this painting.

The rules contained in this sword make Su Ming want to draw, the more he feels that it is ever-changing. It seems to be inorganic, and it is difficult to fully understand it. Under the pen of his right index finger, he draws it completely.

He knew that it was difficult for him to fully understand the power of heaven and earth contained in this sword in a short time, so he did not want to do it all at once, but took the difference in every copy.

Gradually, with the passage of time, every time Su Ming's right hand fell, he slowly felt that the countless layers of invisible diaphragm between him and the coming red sword would dissipate.

With the disappearance of the diaphragm, Su Ming's body is slowly getting closer and closer to the red sword.

Su Ming's expression was calm, but his eyes were empty, as if he had lost his soul, or it seemed that his soul had been integrated into his right index finger. With the drawing of the brush, it had spread out in this heaven and earth to feel the strange changes contained in the sword under the vastness of heaven and earth.

One stroke, like a picture, the invisible diaphragm dissipated one after another. Su Ming's body slowly walked forward. Without taking a step, he would draw a lot of strokes to make the diaphragm disappear more.

But he clearly knew that now he could only copy the shape of the sword, not his soul. Even if he drew it with his own soul, he could not feel the sadness, so he was godless.

"Sadness..." Su Ming muttered, drawing his right hand in front of him again and again. He could find his own sadness and the sadness of Wushan, but these sorrows seemed to lack something and could not be integrated into this stroke and sword.

"Less the vicissitudes of time..." When Su Ming had come to the red sword cut in mid-air, the distance from this sword seemed to be less than a few feet, Su Ming's body suddenly stopped and had a trace of understanding.

"In what I have met, there is such a person who has the vicissitudes of life..." Su Ming lowered his head, and his right eye gradually became blood red and became Wushan Blood Moon.

"He is the sky, why are you crying alone..." Su Ming muttered, closed his eyes, unconsciously raised his right index finger, and made a stroke in front of him again. If the stroke is drawn on the paper, it may be just a horizontal line, but this simple horizontal line contains a kind of horizontal line that makes people look at it. There are moving changes in the world.

At this moment, it is painted in the void. Under the sound of destruction that the flesh and ears can't hear, the last layer of invisible diaphragm between Su Ming and the red sword is broken when it is drawn by Su Ming's finger.

At the moment of his disappearance, Su Ming raised his right hand again and drew a stroke with one finger on the red sword that there was no invisible barrier between him and him.

This stroke is just a horizontal line, but this horizontal line seems to be a stroke, but in fact it is the peak stroke of the sword trajectory copied by Su Ming after thousands of pens.

At the moment when the pen fell, the countless horizontal lines he had drawn before suddenly appeared beside him. These strokes, such as graffiti, all emerged at this moment, and outsiders could not see this scene, because they were painted by Su Ming and could only be seen by Su Ming.

At this moment, these countless horizontal lines suddenly condensed in front of Su Ming. On the last stroke he drew, like overlapping, thousands of pens were superimposed together, and finally formed the strongest horizontal line that Su Ming's perception so far can be drawn, copying the trajectory of the sword.

At the moment when the horizontal lines were drawn, the sky and the earth roared, as if there was a click echo. The world in front of him broke like a mirror, as if after being scraped off a layer, the sound of uproar echoed, and a sharp roar fell from the sky.

The surroundings have completely recovered as usual, and the time seems to have been stopped at the moment before Su Ming's perception. At this moment, it is also at that moment with Huixiang.

Like everything before, it is an illusion.

Su Ming's expression was in a trance. His right hand was raised at this moment, keeping it in the strange world just now, drawing the last move.

In front of him, it was Sima Xin's red sword that sounded sharply. The sword is now rolled upside down. With a bang in mid-air, it was unable to maintain the shape of the sword. It directly turned into a large piece of red light and returned to standing there, looking at Sima Xin with an incredible look at him with a ho The colorful mountain behind him.

Sima Xin was short of breath. At this moment, all the people around him also looked at Su Ming one by one. In those eyes, there was shock and shock.

At that moment, they saw with their own eyes that when the red sword cut at Su Ming, Su Ming had no reaction, but when the sword was less than ten feet away, Su Ming suddenly raised his head and raised his right hand, as if to waved gently at the coming red sword.

But under this swing, it was in the middle of Su Ming and the red sword. The heaven and earth were distorted. Before many people could see it too clearly, there was a roar echo. The red sword made a sharp roar, and it was unexpectedly defeated. In the end, it was even more difficult to maintain the shape of the sword!

You know, this is the barbarian change of Sima Xin!

After a short silence, the noise buzzed, and the eyes that looked at Su Ming were surprised, as if at this moment, they had re-recognized the strange face in front of them.

Sima Xin was short of breath. Although he was not injured, at that moment, Su Ming's light stroke collapsed his red sword, which had already deterred him.

He knew the power of his barbarian transformation, but it was precisely because of his understanding that his heart was beating faster at this moment, with an unbelievable face.

"This is impossible! He is not a strong man of sacrifice. How can he dissipate my perception so easily... And... And... and the method of confrontation he just used..." Sima Xin couldn't believe everything he saw, especially Su Ming's scattered movements, which made him feel familiar.

At that moment, a looming wisp of sadness shocked him.

On the fourth peak, Zuo Jiao, dressed in a red robe, had bright eyes at this moment, took a very solemn step, and carefully looked at Su Ming on the battlefield in the distance.

"Made..." Zuo Jiao muttered, and his eyes did not take back for a long time.

On the remaining peaks of Tianhan Sect, there are also many old people who do not often go down the mountain. At this moment, they are staring at the battle just now, and Su Ming's last wave is enough to make their hearts move.

On the eighth peak, the long-haired woman who had always sat on the raised platform raised her right hand at this moment and pulled the green silk in her ear. When she put it down, she gently gestured in front of her. The arc she drew looked a little similar to the horizontal lines drawn by Su Ming.

It is not the external similarity, but the Shen Yun contained in it. It is similar. Even when she drew it, there was also a distortion in front of her, as if she simply imitated Su Ming's behavior just now. It was not a detour. Her finger was drawn, but there was less vicissitudes and sadness.

"A very meaningful... the person of the ninth peak..." The woman smiled.

Under the heavenly gate, in mid-air, the trance on Su Ming's face disappeared and he calmed down again, but his heart was shocked at this moment. But while he recovered, a sharp pain came out of his [body], making Su Ming pale, spewed out a large mouthful of blood, and retreated a few steps.

This kind of pain does not come from a certain part of his body, but from his whole body, every inch of flesh and blood, every inch of bone, and even the veins and internal organs in the [body].

This pain came very suddenly, as if Su Ming's body had exceeded the limit of his body's ability to withstand due to some movements, making his body and the five viscera show signs of failure.

When Su Ming retreated, the Handan Mountain Bell not far away had already enveloped the stick worm and covered it inside. The Handan Mountain Bell suddenly shrank and finally turned into the size of a bell, flew to Su Ming and fell into Su Ming's hand.

Buzzing came from the bell, and the vibrating bell kept trembling in Su Ming's hand, as if the trapped stick worm was struggling crazily.

After all, Su Ming did not fully master this Handan clock. Although it can be taken away at will, in its power, it can only be turned into a sound wave with the sound of the bell, and it can also be used to carry out some seals like before.

Sima Xin, not far away, after seeing Su Ming spewed out a mouthful of blood, his expression was a little relieved. He was no longer as shocked as before. If Su Ming really casually could dissipate his barbarian god without being injured at all, then Sima Xin would immediately turn around and return to his first peak. Close, so as to avoid Su Ming.

But at this moment, after Su Ming's blood spewed out, Sima Xin regained confidence.

He stared at Su Ming, took a deep breath, and looked like he had never seen a round about. His right hand slowly raised, propped up against the sky like a five-finger palm.

"If you can take over my last formula, from now on, our Ma Xin will see you Su Ming and kneel down immediately!" Sima Xin resocisively opened his mouth, and his five fingers clasped slightly in the air.

In this instant, in the land of Nanchen, there are dozens of tribes. The son of barbarians like square wood arranged by Sima Xin over the years fell down in different places with violent trembling at the same time and lost consciousness.

"Barbarian, unintentional method!" Sima Xin's hair was windless and automatic, and there was a faint light in his eyes. His arms suddenly stretched out, and his whole body looked in mid-air, and the demon was different!