Netherworld Immortal

The purple sun was in the sky, and it was as quiet as a hanging bead, or a magical purple eye looked down on the Green Fire Demon Territory below.

With the disappearance of all the magic fires in the glazed fire path, the door of the Qinghuo Demon Realm opened wide, and news continued to spread that the treasures left on the battlefield of the battle between humans and demons were left from the Qinghuo Demon Realm.

Most of these treasures were purchased by the business alliance in the square market at a high price, and then sold to monks and sects in need at a higher price, which really made the business alliance a lot of money.

And behind every radiant treasure that was discovered was the ruthless killing among the monks.It can be said that every treasure is blood red.

There is a large green meadow in the Qinghuo Demon Territory, which is called the Green Wind Grassland, where the strong wind blows and the green waves touch the sky.

In the center of the Green Wind Grassland stands a tall altar.The altar is made of huge smooth white stones. It is divided into three floors.

The white altar lies quietly on the green grassland, which is very eye-catching.From a distance, it looks like white clouds falling from the sky are resting on the grassland.From a closer look, it looks more like three huge books stacked together, recording secrets that were unknown thousands of years ago.

It is exactly where the Confucian formation formed by the Yu Dao Sect was set up here thousands of years ago - the Confucian Altar of Confucianism.

At this moment, outside the Confucian Altar, on the originally empty ground, a small black light spot suddenly appeared.

The black spot of light is still agile, like a jittery ink bird, leaving black footprints in the void as it jumps.Not long after, a character "gate" about the size of Zhang Xu was drawn in the void.

Nuoda's font stands in the air, with thick strokes and clusters of ancient seal characters scattered on the surface.

Impressively, the silver light in the word "door" radiated, and the space fluctuated violently.

Whoosh, two figures jumped out of it and landed firmly on the ground of the Green Wind Grassland.

The visitors were a gray-robed scholar and a green-shirted scholar.

The gray-robed scholar was plainly dressed, with one hand on his back, a straight body, an ordinary middle-aged face, and a hint of bookishness in his stability.

The scholar in green shirt beside him, in his twenties, was dressed in a delicate blue brocade Confucian outfit, smiling.

Without it, the gray-robed scholar is Ji Wuhen, the peak master of Black Feather Peak of Yu Daomen, and the green-clothed scholar is Lu Qian, the peak master of Qingyu Peak of Yu Daomen.

The clothes of the two were fluttering, and when they stood firmly on the ground, the gray robe waved one hand, and an invisible magic formula was issued, and the ink-colored "door" characters behind the two of them turned into ink-colored lines, disappearing without a trace as if quietly melting into the water .

"Senior Brother Ji, the power of concentrating your writing has become much stronger." The scholar in green shirt praised.

"Junior Brother Lu, without your chess and cloth technique to accurately locate the location, no matter how powerful my writing power is, I will not be able to find the exact location of the Confucian Heaven Altar so quickly." The gray-robed scholar looked around, "Fortunately, there is no one here. , otherwise you and I are suspected of flattering each other, you and I are both Confucian disciples, we should be modest gentlemen."

"Senior Brother Ji, the truth is so, why bother to stick to it, now that you and I have stepped into the Daoming Realm, we are enough to stand out from the crowd."

"Having said that, it is thanks to the opening of the secret realm of "Scholarly Family", one of the Confucian holy places of Yu Daomen, half a year ago. This secret realm is opened every hundred years. It is the bottleneck. Now that you and I have greatly increased our strength, we are more confident in completing this task delivered inside the door."

"If you and I go out together, we will succeed immediately."

The two looked at each other and smiled, and then cast their eyes on the Confucianism Altar opposite.

"This Confucian altar is worthy of being one of the top formations of my Yu Dao Sect. It overflows with the unique aura of Confucianism. Just looking up at it makes people awe-inspiring." The gray-robed scholar said.

"Since entering the secret realm of "Scholarly Family", we have become more and more sensitive to the awe-inspiring aura. But you and I have not been able to cultivate the awe-inspiring pulse. It is very difficult to continue to understand the essence of the awe-inspiring power." Qing Shan Shusheng said.

"The Haoran Tianmai is a great opportunity that cannot be met. Among my majestic Feather Daomen, within the last hundred years, the only disciple who can cultivate the Haoran Tianmai is "Zhan Yunfei"? But this child is indeed There is something extraordinary about it, seeing the trace of mysterious ice on the surface of the altar of Confucianism, Zhan Yunfei has probably entered the altar of Confucianism." The gray-robed scholar Ji Wuhen said.

Hearing this, the green-shirted scholar curled his lips, and said, "Now in my Yu Dao Sect, apart from the Elder Lan Xingjun of Lan Yufeng, I am afraid that no one can order Zhan Yunfei. Anyway, according to seniority , Zhan Yunfei should also call you and me uncle. This time, he and Qi Mu came here first, and entered the altar of Confucianism without waiting for you and me to come to support. Well, you still don't pay attention to us?"

"You and I should go into the altar of Confucianism and have a look. I hope that the two of them are fine. Otherwise, the Elder Lan Xingjun will blame us, and it will appear that we and you are at a disadvantage."

"Then senior brother Lao Ji will cast a spell to open the door to the altar of Confucianism." The green-clothed scholar cupped his fists and said.

"Let me try it." Hearing this, the gray-robed scholar did his part, stepped forward, stared at the Confucianism Altar in front of him, took a breath, and began to cast spells.At the same time, he thought to himself: "That junior Zhan Yunfei can enter, and of course I, Ji Wuhen, can also enter."

The gray-robed scholar's hands protruded naturally from the big sleeves, and above the fingertips, there seemed to be blessings from a spiritual pen.The ten fingers fell in the middle, and black lines were drawn out of thin air.Without stopping for a moment, those black lines twisted like spirit snakes, and in a blink of an eye, a huge black hand was spliced ​​together.

The big ink-colored hands and feet are tens of feet in size, and in the palm of the hand, there is a clear pale golden word "Feng" in seal script.

"Go." The gray-robed scholar changed the formula in his hand and whispered at the same time.

In the next moment, a powerful force of restraint was carried by the big ink hand, and it went straight to the direction of the altar of Confucianism.

Squeak, squeak, black electricity is generated out of thin air.

As the big black hand got closer and closer to the Confucianism Altar, a powerful restraining force began to act on it, like a black eagle pounced on a jade rabbit, and the Confucian Altar was covered by the big hand with just a slight shake.

The green-clothed scholar who watched from the side nodded slightly, "Senior Brother Ji's writing power is really extraordinary, and this black hand technique may have the power of a hundred mountains."

At this moment, the expression on the brows of the green-shirted scholar suddenly became serious, and his pupils reflected what happened at the altar of Confucianism opposite.

A sense of grandeur swirled on the surface of the Confucianism altar.The awe-inspiring aura is like a dragon, flying up against the big black hand that is covered.

"Long!" The world trembled.

The big ink-colored hand was stuck in mid-air and could not be fully lowered.

At the same time, a large area of ​​black ancient seal characters appeared on the surface of the Confucianism Altar.They are connected into pieces, like ink and wash.After a while, a pair of Nuo Da's ink painting unexpectedly appeared.

In the ink painting, on the bank of willows, a Confucian scholar stands holding a scroll, opposite a river rippling with spring water, full of natural charm.

Immediately afterwards, the entire picture suddenly twisted and turned into a mass of pitch black, as if it had been altered with a huge ink pen.

Suddenly, a phantom of a writing brush about ten feet in size suddenly appeared on the surface of the altar.

Nanuoda's pen is just a wave, like a sword holding up the sky.The big black hand hovering above the altar of Confucianism exploded with a bang, turning into black stars all over the sky.

Ji Wuhen, who was casting the spell, only felt a tightness in his chest, and said in amazement, "Writing the power of condensed truth."

The green-clothed scholar on the side frowned, stretched out his hands instinctively, and thought in his mind: "Until Senior Brother Ji speaks, I'd better not intervene at will. It's also the power of concentrating writing, so as not to hurt his face."

The scholar in blue was ready to strike at any time, but he didn't do it right away.

At this moment, above the altar of Confucianism, the phantom of the brush turned quickly, and the tip of the brush was just aimed at Ji Wuhen and Lu Qian who were opposite.Like a spirit snake smelling its prey, it swung the brush with a phantom.

brush!

A black ink mark was thrown out of thin air, like a tall and straight mountain.

With a "buzz", the ink marks condensed, and a huge mountain of ink tens of feet tall appeared, directly suppressing the position of the two opposite people.

When Mount Mo descended, ripples appeared in the void. The powerful oppressive force was more than ten times more terrifying than real rocks.

Seeing this, the gray-robed scholar Ji Wuhen narrowed his eyes, but his heart became excited.

Ji Wuhen originally cultivated the power of consolidating the truth in writing, one of the six Confucian arts.On the opposite side of the altar of Confucianism, what is revealed is also the power of writing.To be able to compete with the purest power of writing condensed truth is also something that Ji Wuhen can meet but cannot ask for.With his attainments, he might be able to comprehend a thing or two from it.

"This ink-colored pen is formed by the condensed power of the formation, and its activation must have a corresponding formation. If I confront it head-on, even if I win this round by luck, I am afraid I will continue to fight endlessly." Just for a moment, Ji There was a judgment in Wuhen's heart.

Ji Wuhen didn't change his face, but he didn't dare to slow down his actions.

He secretly improved his martial arts, which was [-]% of the way.The gray robe behind him fluttered like a ball, and black spirit patterns overflowed from his body surface, instantly dyeing his gray robe black.

Immediately afterwards, his whole figure flew up at a gallop.

Miraculously, Ji Wuhen's body surface reflected a clear phantom of a brush, the person is the brush, and the brush is a person.

As Ji Wuhen's body was deftly outlined high in the air, a black seal character with a size of several tens of feet appeared out of thin air - "wind".

"Writing is condensed, soul power is transformed into form, and it is popular all over the world..." Ji Wuhen in mid-air recited the formula silently in his heart.

The next moment, the word wind dissipated, the wind blew up, and the world was dyed black.

On the other hand, the ink-colored pen that appeared from the altar of Confucianism looked like a hunter who couldn't find the target. His "sight" was completely blocked by the ink wind, hovering in mid-air, trembling, and could never come down.

"Wuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuutou

"Found it, the base is there."

High in the sky, Ji Wuhen's body carried the reflection of the brush, and flew towards the surface of the Confucian Altar.

"Oh!"

With a muffled sound, Ji Wuhen's body accurately landed on a point on the surface of the Confucian Altar.He kept doing magic tricks with both hands, and in a blink of an eye, thousands of runes were painted on the surface of the altar of Confucianism.

"Buzz buzz buzz..." The Rutian altar was like a giant that had been scratched, trembling for a while, the awe-inspiring aura withdrew, and the imaginary huge pen disappeared out of thin air.

High in the sky, the ink wind dissipated, and the sky was blue and the ground was green.

Ji Wuhen, a scholar in gray robe, stood on the surface of the altar of Confucianism.And under his feet, there is an open passage.

"Papapa, papapa." The green-shirted scholar on the opposite side clapped his hands and applauded, "Brother Ji, excellent."

……