The Legend of Honghuang Erlang

In just a blink of an eye, Yang Jian restrained the old Taoist miasma spirit, without giving the opponent the slightest chance to fight back.

The wisp of gray miasma was barely able to stop when it was about to drill into the old man's forehead, and was grabbed by Yang Jian with his profound energy; like a poisonous snake that chose to bite someone, the old man was so scared that he didn't dare to move.

"My lord, spare my life, my lord, spare my life."

The corner of Yang Jian's mouth twitched, it was only then that he had the chance to win.

Directly seal all parts of the old Tao with profound energy, and then use the Xuangang as a sword to pierce it everywhere. The old Tao didn't feel any pain, but it soon withered, and it was like a piece of rag in Yang Jian's hands.

"Hand over all the treasures on your body."

Yang Jian shook the old man in front of him, the old man smiled miserably, some light spots appeared on his body, and with a wave of Yang Jian's big sleeve, all of them were swept into the magic weapon of storage.

It has been rewarding.

The Thunder Fan and the Mieling Sword alone have already made Yang Jian's trip worthwhile; but these magic weapons are not the highlight, most of them are left by the monks who lost here, not the treasure of the mysterious turtle.

Yang Jian asked again, and the origin of these treasures was similar to what he had guessed.

The old Taoist was restrained by Yang Jian, his life was at stake, and he had no integrity at all; at this moment, he didn't dare to hide anything, he just wanted to have a chance.

In terms of mind and strategy, this old Taoist has been quite confident since he was born with sanity—surrounded by some uncivilized miasma spirits, it is reasonable to have such confidence.

Many monks who came here have died in this old way, and many treasures have been intercepted for endless years.

But these monks who can be killed by this old way, how many real masters are there? The treasures left behind are nothing, and none of the treasures that Yang Jian caught his eye. The Thunder Fan and a dozen other powerful magic weapons and spirit treasures have other origins.

"My lord, look at this miasma-killing lake."

"Mia Mie Lake?" Yang Jian heard the name and looked towards the gray road ahead.

"I really didn't lie to you. This Miasma Mie Lake is where the essence and blood of black turtles are transformed by resentment and filth. Everything can be transformed. I saw how many people broke into it, and it turned into a puddle of puddles in an instant."

Yang Jian frowned and asked, "What's in the lake?"

"Naturally, it is the burial place of the ancestor of Xuangui," the old Taoist smiled miserably. "If my lord can not kill me, I am willing to declare everything I know."

Yang Jian said: "It's not easy to think about your spiritual wisdom, let's destroy your own way."

The old Taoist looked a little embarrassed, hesitating, faltering, and wondering if he could bargain with Yang Jian again.

Yang Jian made a decisive move, and directly slapped the wisp of gray-white miasma on his forehead.

"Destroy! I destroy! Spare me, spare my life!"

Yang Jian paused for a while, but he didn't take back his momentum; the old Taoist miasma sighed, he was going to fall into Yang Jian's hands today, and he didn't dare to struggle anymore, and five-color light spots like fine sand radiated from his body.

While self-defeating, he told Yang Jian about the mysteries of the world inside the tomb in order to survive.

"Speak faster," Yang Jian urged with a frown, a little impatient.

The old Taoist's words faltered, and the clay figurine still had a bit of earthy character; but the situation was overwhelming, so he had to answer Yang Jian's question as concisely as possible.

Gradually, Yang Jian's eyes turned to the miasma lake in front of him.

The poisonousness of Miasma Mie Lake has reached the extreme in this world, and it has become its own way of poison, and it can even smelt the way cultivated by monks, which is strange and inexplicable.

The man in white, Baal, the warrior, and this miasma old man, are actually clusters of five-color miasmas who have attained the Tao and opened up their spiritual wisdom, which cannot be compared with the gray-white miasma.

Miasma is not the source of good fortune, so the three of them have their own shortcomings, and among them, they took the form of an old Taoist, coaxed and deceived the other two miasma spirits as disciples...

Illusion? Why does Yang Jian feel that this is an insinuation of something in ancient times.

Miasma destroys the lake, miasma destroys all things, this is the grievance of the black tortoise, if you can't break through the miasma, you will not be able to see the real spirit of the black tortoise, let alone take away the treasure left by the black tortoise.

What is Chongbao?

The precious blood of the black turtle, the essence of the precious body of the black turtle, the peerless medicine grown from the corpse of the black turtle over the endless years!

For Yang Jian, these are supreme treasures, which are a great supplement to his practice.

But the Miasma Lake in front of him...

He first wrapped an ordinary magic weapon with profound energy and profound handle, and threw it into Miasma Mie Lake.

Wisps of gray-white miasma seemed to be living things, directly entwining the magic weapon; while Yang Jian's proud Xuanqi and Xuanhandle turned into curls of green smoke in just the blink of an eye, and even disappeared without knowing where they went.

You can't force your way, you need to outsmart.

"What is the way?"

"Pass? Can't pass," the old Taoist was already a little weak at this time, and his figure was also translucent. Obviously, most of his cultivation had been lost, and he could no longer pose any threat to Yang Jian.

"My lord, my life is in your hands now, so just listen to me," the old Taoist was afraid that Yang Jian would take him into the miasma lake, so he hurriedly persuaded him, "this miasma lake cannot be broken into. For many years, I have seen so many foreign monks who are stronger than my lord turn into green smoke. Look at these treasures. I waited by the lake and waited for these treasures to slowly float over. Their original owners, there is no dead scum left!"

treasure?

Yang Jian's eyes fell on Lei Fan, and he kept planning.

Yang Jian said: "You mean, the original owners of these treasures all died in Miasma Lake, but they floated to the border intact and were picked up by you?"

"Hey, the treasure gas in Miasma Lake, which is what you call Miasma, although it claims to melt everything, but the materials of these treasures are all that Miasma Lake can't do anything about."

Yang Jian nodded, motioning the old man to continue talking.

"If Miasmi Lake can't be melted, it will be squeezed out little by little. Miasmier Lake is originally formed by the essence and blood of black turtles, and impurities and filth are not allowed." The old Taoist replied carefully, secretly looking at Yang Jian's face.

Sure enough, as the old man expected, Yang Jian seemed to have gained something, and a divine light appeared in his eyes.

The old Taoist sneered in his heart, but he was still very respectful on the surface, and continued to trick Yang Jian.

Following the idea given by the old Taoist, Yang Jian must be thinking at this time, it would be a good way to use a few treasures such as the thunder fan to support himself and rush across the miasma-killing lake in one go.

The master of the monster race might kill him at any time, and Yang Jian didn't dare to hesitate for too long. With a ruthless heart, he stomped his foot, and took a deep breath, with a serious expression... He directly squeezed the old man in front of him into a thumb-sized bead, stuffed it on a Lingbao gourd, and threw it towards the miasma lake.

The old Taoist came back to his senses in the gourd, and finally couldn't help but curse:

"You bloody bastard!"

With a puff, the gourd fell into the miasma lake, and was immediately entangled by wisps of gray and white miasma, continuously floating and sinking.

The voice of the old man was filled with endless fear, and he kept calling for mercy, but Yang Jian was unmoved, just observing quietly.

It took only half a cup of tea before and after, Yang Jian finally raised his hand, and a small vortex appeared in the palm of his hand, sucking the gourd back precisely, shaking off the miasma attached to it.

Open the gourd plug and pour out the orb inside.

The orb quickly absorbed strands of five-color poisonous miasma, and turned into that old-fashioned appearance again, but this time it was only two feet high.

Pointing at Yang Jian, the old Taoist was furious for a while, but he didn't dare to curse any more.

Yang Jian was determined in his heart, laughed a little embarrassedly, and said, "So, I can cross this lake."

The old Taoist bowed his head in response, and the cursing and slander in his heart will not be mentioned for now.

Yang Jian did not let the old Taoist go easily, he threw the old Taoist back to the main hall, and asked the old Taoist to bury the bones of the monks in the temple before he came back.

In any case, the dead are dead, and these bones should not be used to set up evil formations.

What's more, many of the monks who came here came with the purpose of rescuing Beiju Luzhou, but they died before the Miasma Mie Lake, and the experience was in vain.

Yang Jian didn't think he had much noble sentiments, he came here to get treasure, and this move was just a matter of convenience.

I searched for several spiritual treasures in the old Taoist miasma, and nearly ten magic weapons that are expected to be advanced spiritual treasures. This trip has been very rewarding.

After lingering in front of Miasma Lake for a long time, Yang Jian just selected an area, took out the spirit treasure gourd he used before, sacrificed it repeatedly with profound energy, and threw it into Miasma Lake to try again and again. Finally, he decided that as long as he hid in the gourd, he would not be afraid of the miasma that could corrode everything.

The function of Lingbao is really wonderful.

Exercising the "Sansheng Biluo Jue", Yang Jian transformed into a fake body, holding the gourd; then made himself smaller, got into the gourd, and carefully stuffed the mouth of the gourd.

Why, there is an illusion that I suddenly want to train myself.

Illusion, must be illusion.

The false body poured all its profound energy into the gourd, and threw it towards Miasma Lake!

Hiding in the gourd, Yang Jian felt a icy chill, but was not damaged.

When he noticed that the gourd started to slow down and wisps of gray-white miasma were entangled around him, he kicked the gourd's mouth open and slapped the outside with palm after palm.

The gourd's buttocks are in front, and the gourd's mouth is behind. At this time, the gourd's mouth is continuously emitting a stream of profound energy, pushing the gourd to accelerate again...

These jets of profound energy also blew away the miasma at the mouth of the gourd, making it impossible for the miasma to penetrate into the gourd.

All the best!

I don't know how deep this miasma lake is, but as long as Yang Jian's profound energy is blasted out continuously, the gourd can walk through the miasma lake forever.

Yang Jian was a little complacent, and felt that the difficulties in the world were nothing more than trivial, when he suddenly heard a chuckle beside his ears, and while his heart was trembling, the gourd had already been caught in his hands!

A melodious and ethereal voice sounded outside, and at the same time, the mouth of the gourd was 'ruthlessly' sealed.

"It's also thanks to you that you can think of such attention, hee, it really is my little nephew who is second only to me in intelligence."

Yang Jian's forehead was covered with black lines, and the wry smile at the corner of his mouth became more intense.

Well, this belongs to digging a hole and burying yourself, right? Lifting a rock to shoot myself in the foot, never wanting to be taken advantage of directly by others, really no struggle at all.

And who can ignore the miasma of miasma miasma lake?

That 'nephew' really contained too much information.

...

Nanzhou, Chaoge City.

At this time, the city was empty of thousands of people, and countless people gathered on both sides of the avenue, either kneeling or bowing, and the people were respectful.

The gorgeous car drove up, and the heroic young emperor looked towards the distant sky with a smile on his lips.

According to the usual practice, it is time to pay homage to the Holy Mother of the Human Race, Nuwa Empress.

But this time, the emperor went in person, and the etiquette was quite heavy.