About the story of a brave man being a potato for a thousand years and then the world was destroyed

Jon Snow closed his eyes.

Following the flow of knowledge, almost instinctively, he integrated a certain magical property into the core contract of Wuxiang.

Wuxiang is called Wuxiang because he has nearly omnipotent attribute adaptability, although Jon Snow does not like to define his core attributes, because with tendencies, there will be corresponding weaknesses.

But if the attribute he injected happens to be the enemy's weakness.

That's another matter.

As the arcane properties of the core gradually changed, Wuxiang's body gradually revealed some more specific characteristics.

Black scales, sharp fins, and a half-dragon, half-human face...

"Is this, a half-dragon? No, no, it doesn't look like it, this..." Jon Snow was a little surprised.

He had never seen any race with these characteristics presented by Wuxiang.

Compared with Jon Snow, the third king was even more surprised.

Just now, he found that all his analysis was overturned in an instant. Wuxiang seemed to have been completely changed from the root, and completely turned into another thing.

What surprised him the most was that he clearly felt that just by contacting Wuxiang, the thick fog he created was constantly dissipating and turning into nothingness...

302. Things outside the rules must be dealt with by things outside the rules, this is fair

The heavy double guns and the dark double blades collided in the air.

The two sides of the battle seemed to be evenly matched, but in fact both knew that Anwada was suppressed by his opponent in terms of speed, strength, and combat skills.

In fact, in the short quarter of an hour of fighting between the two, Anwada had suffered several fatal injuries. It was only because of the immortality of the brave that he could keep fighting with his opponent.

This feeling is quite subtle. After all, the fighting style that relies on immortality to pile up life is generally used more by the front cavalry and the king cavalry. Anwada did not expect that he would use the opponent's routine one day.

As for the record of the second king's attack, looking back at the past thousand years, there has not been a single record. The information they can obtain about him depends entirely on Lim's prophetic ability.

But even so, the information they can obtain is very limited.

There are only a few things we can know.

First, he is an assassin.

Second, he doesn't attack often, which is not surprising. To be precise, the king generals don't attack easily.

Third, everyone who has seen him attack has died.

This sentence is not surprising. In fact, many top assassins like to boast about themselves in this way. It is estimated that they have been used too much in the industry.

But what is different about him is that Lim listed his record. Those who have seen him attack are all the top fighters in world history. Many people who were thought to be killed by the tyrants themselves actually died at his hands.

However, after all, he is a king general, and this record is also foreseeable.

So these three pieces of information are not important, the important one is the fourth one.

He has the ability to deal with the undead.

What kind of ability is it, whether it is sealing, exile, or imprisonment, even Lim is not clear.

This made Anwada panic all the time. Although he suffered several fatal injuries, it does not mean that he really dares to die directly at the hands of the opponent.

He could be pierced through the chest, ripped open, and have his spine cut off, because he was an undead. As long as he blocked the pain, these fatal injuries could be recovered, but he could not be beheaded or have his hands and feet cut off, which would make him lose his ability to move. Even if the opponent could not really kill him, at least he could be forced to leave the battlefield.

At that time, their battle line would not be far from collapse.

The pitch-black thorn blade chopped down from above, and Anwada raised his gun to block it. Amid the clanging sound, he felt his arm go numb and the weapon almost fell out of his hand.

But it was okay if he held on.

Just as Anwada tried to fight back with another gun, he saw that he had raised his second hand at some point, and both hands chopped at his barely supported blocking gun.

Seeing that the situation was not good, Anwada wanted to push away the opponent's thorn blade, but he was pressed by the opponent without any movement. In desperation, he could only raise another gun to block it and planned to take the blow head-on.

Of course, while making this response, Anwada had already guessed that the opponent would definitely change his tactics.

But he had no choice. The decision of whether to change his tactics or not was up to the opponent. If he did not block, the opponent could just chop him down without changing his tactics.

The result was the same as he expected. The next batch of thorns seemed to turn into soft snake tentacles in an instant, bypassing the double guns and hitting his neck directly.

Fortunately, Anwada was prepared. He swung his spear sideways and fell to the side, barely avoiding the opponent's stab.

But he avoided the first one, but not the second one.

The second king turned the thorn in his hand and slammed it into Anwada's chest.

Although the heavy armor blocked the sharp blade, the strong impact still made Anwada's mouth sweet, and the whole person was knocked out.

And this series of moves happened in just a blink of an eye.

The next moment, Anwada, who had reorganized his body, was fighting with the second king again.

There were hundreds of such exchanges every minute. Outsiders could only see the two figures flashing and interweaving in the air, and could not see what was happening at all.

The few people who temporarily blocked the opponent wanted to help, but they were completely unable to do anything.

In normal times, Anwada, who was fully fired, could only be seen when he was sparring with potatoes or Mass.

The power to break through the limit that the brave man had at that time was definitely not something that ordinary people could achieve.

This level of battle is no longer something they can get involved in.

And Anwada also understood this very well.

He knew that no one could help him.

But he also knew that he would lose this battle sooner or later.

Every fight was a thrilling dance on the tip of a knife. Every time, if he was not careful, he might be beheaded by his opponent.

In such a high-speed battle, to survive even a day, the number of rounds was almost unimaginable. Anwada really didn't know how long he could last...

All he could do was not think about these things at all, and take on wave after wave of attacks with the most focused mentality.

Until his armor was shattered by the sharp blade and his body was torn apart by the opponent again and again, he did not show even a trace of cowardice.

But he knew...

"This won't work..."

"Huh?" Anwada's pupils shrank slightly.

Some strange voice sounded in his mind.

"You can't lose, you should know that, right?"

Ask knowingly.

Anwada had no time to respond to the voice in his mind. The high-intensity battle did not allow for a moment of distraction.

"Ah, that's right. You are busy now. Then I will not say any nonsense to you. Just one sentence, boy, do you want to win?"

I want to!

How can I not want to!

Anwada gritted his teeth and distanced himself from the opponent after another confrontation.

"Very good, then, give me a gun."

"Huh?"

Anwada's eyebrows jumped immediately.

Before he could make a judgment, he had already fought with his opponent again.

"Trust me, if you want to win, give me a gun. Don't look for me. Throw your gun out and I will catch it."

Anwada did not respond at the first time.

His brain did not have enough free time to support his thinking.

He even suspected that this was an illusion caused by excessive pressure.

But he didn't know what he was thinking. In the end, two minutes later, he threw one of the guns in his hand.

The moment he shot, he immediately regretted it.

He felt that he must be crazy, unable to stand under the high pressure, so he placed all his hopes on the illusory illusion.

And his opponent seemed to think he was crazy as well.

The second king looked at the spear he threw with surprise and contempt, and picked it up casually, and then kicked it behind him, and then rushed towards Anwada.

But at this moment.

He suddenly turned around and stabbed behind him with a backhand.

There was a clang, and the black stabbing blade exploded in the air, exploding into fragments all over the sky.

And the one who achieved this victory was the long spear floating in the air.

303. No matter how much the wolf prays, the chicken can't hear it.

It's unknown what kind of battle is going on in the gray fog. The second king and Anwada are fighting in a rapid manner, which is almost impossible to be seen by other people's naked eyes. The battlefield of the vanguard and the army is inseparable from the army of immortal warriors, and at first glance, the warriors seem to have an absolute advantage.

Almost naturally, everyone who is in a state of repair will cast their eyes to the bottom of the core battlefield.

It is a melee of endless black shadows and potatoes.

To be honest, this battlefield is frightening just by looking at it.

The clone shrouded in black fog, if we talk about the strength of the individual, is actually not outstanding.

The strength and speed may even be slightly inferior to the new eleventh king who has just taken office.

But there are tens of thousands of such individuals now, and their number is even increasing.

"How many can this split into?" Osa murmured.

"I don't know. Tsk, I always feel that if this thing had just dispersed and rushed towards us, we would have been finished now," Daedel landed beside Ao Sa.

"Why did you come here? Don't you have to stay there?" Ao Sa turned his head, a little surprised.

"I personally added an extra seal to him, and I can control the time," Daedel said, "and, in this situation, we seem to have the conditions to implement the second plan, right?"

"Oh, that's right," Ao Sa suddenly realized, looked back, and saw Guo Guo also walking towards this side.

Indeed, the process of dealing with these king cavalry was smoother than expected.

Or, it was the ideal situation in the plan.

They were familiar with the enemy's intelligence, and their abilities were unknown to the other party. In this case, even if there was a gap in strength, they still had a high probability of winning the first battle.

If they all won, no one would need to fight with the extra king cavalry, and no one would need a lot of time to heal and rotate, which would be the best situation.

In this situation, they can implement the second plan, actively delay the rebirth time of each king knight, and fight the opponent in turn to delay as much time as possible.

However, there are still two problems now...

First, the battlefield between the king general and the tyrant cannot collapse...

Of course, it seems that it has nothing to do with them whether it collapses or not. You are embarrassed to get involved in that level of battle if you don’t have an immortal body.

Although anyone would feel thrilling to see the seven potatoes swaying in the black ocean, they also know that their involvement in this battlefield is just a drop in the bucket.

As for the other problem...

"Speaking of which, where is Laowei?" Osa looked into the distance.

"I don't know, how did he fight with the 12th King Knight? Why did he disappear?" Daedel looked into the distance, frowning, "Damn it, did he run too far? Why can't I see him?"

Guoguo glanced at the two of them and tapped his forehead directly, "Hey? Granny Majina, where is Movente now?"

After a short silence, Majina's voice rang in their minds.

"Strange, why is he not here, when..."

"Eh? Impossible? How could he run away under your nose?" Daedel said in astonishment, "Did he get taken away? Damn it, why didn't you remind us!?"

"No, I'm not talking about Movente," Majina's voice rang again, "I just transferred him to my side, I'm talking about the 12th King Knight, he knocked Movente down, and now he's gone..."

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On the scorched earth by the lake, Turin hummed a little tune while looking at the long sword he had just got in his hand.