Mythical Three Kingdoms: Martial Arts Reach Divine Ranks, I Alone Rule the World

A secret of love and hate, buried deep in the desert for centuries, suddenly surfaced.

Li Ling's life was tragic and magnificent.

Everyone knows that he fought bravely and refused to surrender, eventually being forced to surrender to the Xiongnu, but no one knows about this emotional entanglement buried for thousands of years.

Suppressing my desire to watch the drama unfold...

Zhang Mu responded.

"nice!

"but."

"That was back then!"

"If we become enemies, I will certainly take up arms and kill you without hesitation, regardless of whether you are General Li Ling's old flame or not."

"Clear distinction between public and private matters, decisive in killing and wielding!" The old woman, now back to her youthful prime, nodded.

"He's much more interesting than Li Ling, that heartless man who was full of love and family but had no understanding of romance back then."

After saying that, she couldn't help but let out a long laugh.

And after the smile faded.

Her gaze was fixed on the Heavenly Dragon City-Breaking Halberd, and she didn't pay any more attention to Zhang Mu.

The sky above the moonlit night.

The powerful Hun leader in black robes turned to look at his four remaining silent companions, his eerie green eyes filled with scrutiny and questioning.

"What will the four of you ultimately choose?"

"Should we join forces to suppress this imperial army? Or...?"

"Should we just sit idly by and watch opportunities slip away?"

With his head full of gray hair, the old man, who was the first to break the seal and sigh at the passage of time, slowly withdrew his gaze from the imperial soldiers.

His expression was calm, unlike the fervor of his companions.

Then.

He calmly gave instructions to the three fellow warriors behind him.

"There's no need to get involved in the affairs of the Imperial Army."

"The three of you must immediately rush to Hrutu's aid, break free from the constraints of poetic imagery, and rescue him from the predicament of the sea of ​​flowers."

Upon hearing this, three powerful Xiongnu warriors with deep roots in the tribe were astounded.

They immediately rushed towards the golden sea of ​​chrysanthemums, intending to join forces to break the formation and rescue the people.

Looking at what they did.

With Zhang Mu in charge of the overall situation, how could he possibly give them the slightest opportunity to take advantage?

His mind stirred slightly.

In an instant.

The Wen Gong Cave Heaven between Zhang Mu's eyebrows shone with boundless brilliance, and the elegant swordsman, the dejected and lonely old man, and the white-haired sage general who was drunk and examining his sword by lamplight responded simultaneously.

The night was as still as water, and the moonlight poured down.

In an instant.

The entire airspace was suddenly enveloped by billions of clear sword lights, and the sword light fell like rain into the Milky Way.

The chilling sword intent sliced ​​through the air, producing a faint, piercing hiss.

A vast, boundless river of sword intent, stretching for thousands of miles, crashed down from the heavens, slamming down fiercely towards one of the powerful Xiongnu warriors.

Seeing this, the powerful Xiongnu warrior's fighting spirit surged.

He immediately activated his blood energy and qi, intending to confront the great river sword intent descending from the heavens head-on with his own powerful martial force.

however.

The moment they touched...

The powerful sword intent suddenly disintegrated, transforming into a boundless, clear river.

With an irresistible force, it directly swept him into a separate world of sword intent.

In the blink of an eye.

By the time this powerful Xiongnu expert realized what was happening...

That's when he realized it.

He found himself standing in an ancient and lofty hall constructed entirely of sword intent.

Look around.

The beams, pillars, windows, tables, and ornaments were all forged from the essence of swordsmanship.

Even the slightest breeze in the air carries a sharpness capable of slicing through the soul, making one's hair stand on end.

On the main seat in the high hall.

The dashing swordsman and sage leaned against the table, his eyes hazy with drunkenness, seemingly half-awake and half-asleep.

He raised the wine cup in his hand, making a toasting gesture from afar.

"Buzz!"

A sword light emerged from the void.

A wine vessel filled with fine wine appeared before the powerful Xiongnu leader.

He stared intently at the wine vessel…

There was not a drop of wine inside the wine vessel; only the immense, compressed, liquid sword intent flowed silently within.

Each drop contains the terrifying power to shatter the physical body of a martial artist and erode their soul.

"You dare to confine me with such illusory literary concepts?!"

Sweeping away the wine vessel in front of him, the powerful Xiongnu warrior roared in anger.

His bones throbbed as he tried to condense his martial arts form and smash the entire hall with a single punch to break free from this eerie atmosphere.

but.

Just as he was about to mobilize the blood and energy within his body...

On either side of Gao Tang, two hazy sword-wielding figures materialized and pressed heavily on his shoulders.

Two heavy, mountain-like forces instantly sealed off all his meridians, locking his powerful martial aura within his body, preventing any leakage.

There was no sound.

A Daoist voice originating from the great Dao of poetry resonated directly deep within his soul.

Every word is clear.

It carries the power of rules that cannot be violated:

"To leave this hall, one must drink three hundred cups of wine."

Drink three hundred cups of liquid sword intent?

Is this human language?

Upon hearing this, the seasoned and powerful Xiongnu warrior trapped inside was immediately filled with extreme rage.

A single drop of sword intent entering the stomach can severely damage one's foundation.

The consequences of drinking all three hundred cups...

the other side.

Similarly, a powerful Xiongnu warrior fell into the realm of literary and artistic conception of an 800-mile-long battlefield constructed by a white-haired veteran.

He looked up.

All that could be seen was the smoke and fire obscuring the sky, with endless camps stretching for eight hundred miles, and countless soldiers standing in formation.

The armor gleamed coldly, its murderous aura soaring to the heavens.

A white-haired veteran, dressed in tattered military uniform and with his head covered in frost, stood alone on the highest command platform, silently overlooking the entire battlefield.

Around the old general.

It exudes a profound aura, carrying with it the weight of a lifetime of military service and the unwavering dedication to protecting the nation and its people.

Though he remained silent, he possessed an unparalleled majesty capable of suppressing a million-strong army.

The powerful Xiongnu who had entered this realm of artistic conception saw through the key point at a glance.

The white-haired old general on the high platform is the core of this world. If he is killed, the world of literary and artistic conception will collapse.

His predicament was then resolved.

Mind this.

Without further hesitation, this powerful Xiongnu warrior unleashed his boundless blood energy.

A majestic and ferocious martial arts avatar appeared in mid-air, sweeping towards the Lianying camp with the power to shatter mountains and split the earth.

But just as the Dharma form was taking shape...

The entire battlefield, a world imaginable, suddenly changed color.

Thousands of soldiers simultaneously leaped onto their divine steeds, the horses galloping like thunder, their longbows drawn taut, arrows aimed directly at the imposing martial arts image of the powerful Xiongnu leader.

The horse gallops swiftly like the wind, the bowstring twangs like thunder!

Millions of arrows shot out simultaneously.

Densely packed, blotting out the sky and the sun.

Each arrow embodies the epic tales of battle throughout the ages, possessing unparalleled penetrating power.

Even more terrifying.

The 800-mile-long military camp is being arranged according to ancient military formations, with each section linked to the next.

Their energies intertwined, subtly transforming into a gigantic trapping and killing formation.

They continuously shrink the space, locking down all escape routes for the powerful Xiongnu warriors.

Soldiers are charging ahead!

Arrows rained down from the sky!

The area was surrounded by a massive, interconnected defensive formation!

This is the predicament of the powerful Xiongnu warrior who mistakenly entered the world of literary philosophy within the battlefield.

however.

Compared to the plight of his two companions, the Hunnic expert facing the lonely old man in the form of a sage was truly desperate.

They both reside in the world of literary and artistic conception.

Where he stood, there were no flashing swords, no smoke of war, and no glittering wine...

Yes, and it exists.

It was an overwhelming sense of desolation and sorrow.

The mighty Yangtze River flows eastward without ceasing, while the long howls of gibbons echo along its banks.

A lone bird circled low in the sky, crying mournfully, while the autumn wind swept withered yellow leaves across the sky.

The melancholy atmosphere of late autumn permeates all things in heaven and earth.

This sorrow does not attack the physical body, nor does it break through the body's protective energy.

Yet it resembles the effect of ink wash painting.

It seeped into his mind and spirit in subtle ways, silently dissolving all his fighting spirit, ferocity, and murderous intent, gradually eroding his martial arts obsession that was the foundation of his life.

The powerful Xiongnu warriors trapped within had considered using all their might to awaken their killing intent and unleash their blood energy to break free from their shackles...

But when he looked...

At the end of the river, a solitary thatched hut stands quietly on the desolate plain.

A fierce wind raged around the thatched hut.

The somber and desolate atmosphere was a hundred times more intense than the riverbank where he stood.

And in that thatched hut.

An old man sat silently, alone.

Its solitude reveals a tranquility born from witnessing the joys and sorrows of humanity and the rise and fall of the world.

but.

The sorrow and loneliness emanating from him were as profound as the sea.

Upon witnessing this scene.

This powerful Xiongnu warrior, who had lived for over a century and whose hands were stained with countless drops of blood, froze on the spot and cried out in shock.

"A dual world of literary and artistic conception?"

"This...how is this possible?"

"you!"

"Is it really a human being...?"

"Or a ghost?"

The powerful Xiongnu questioned the lonely old man, attempting to ascertain his identity.