Chapter 249

The curling blue flame is like a bright light guiding travelers in the night.

At least that's how Zhao Wujiang feels now.

The appearance of this green and gray flame burning gracefully is just like what he saw on Li Chunfeng's bronze lamp in Zhaoling.

Why do their major clans have this gray flame?Zhao Wujiang walked step by step towards the people who were sluggish.

In Zhaoling, he didn't feel the breath of the flame carefully, but now from these elders, he could feel the flame giving him a very familiar feeling.

As if the flame came from him, as if he was always wrapped in the flame, never separated.

"Zhao Wujiang, if you kill us, you will have a deep blood feud with several major clans! You will never die!" An elder of the Liu clan sternly sternly shook his body, wanting to stand up.

Zhao Wujiang glanced at him, ignored him, tapped his finger lightly, and the gray flame rising from the elder's hand ran towards him gracefully.

Under the horrified eyes of the clan elders, the flame turned into a gray fireball the size of a head in Zhao Wujiang's hands.

The strange green light was reflected on the faces of the people, constantly distorting.

"This fire is from Zhaoling, right?" Zhao Wujiang said slowly, his eyes were cold and oppressive.

The clan elders quietly moved their bodies and found that Zhao Wujiang did not show any killing intent towards them, so they couldn't help but heave a sigh of relief.

"Yes."

They bit the bullet and said, now that Zhao Wujiang is questioning, although the killing intent is gone, they don't want to anger Zhao Wujiang.

Just now, Zhao Wujiang carried his hands on his back, and the cloud light blow had already left an indelible impression in their minds.

"More than a decade ago, various clans under the Zhaoling Xuan Palace fought for each other. Our clans found a bronze ever-burning lamp, but we were unable to take it, but we took the candle of the ever-burning lamp."

Zhao Wujiang nodded: "What is so magical about candlelight?"

"Burning one's own body and life, dissipating the power of burning the sky." The Zhou clan elder looked at the shrinking fireball in Zhao Wujiang's hand, his old eyes were shocked.

The fireball kept shrinking in Zhao Wujiang's hands, and the flames penetrated into Zhao Wujiang's body along the palm of his hand, turning into a billowing heat as if jumping for joy.

【Ding!Congratulations to the host for forging with the Eternal Flame, the system will be upgraded soon. 】

A systematic voice suddenly appeared in Zhao Wujiang's mind.

Eternal Flame?What is the name of this flame?Does it allow system upgrades?Zhao Wujiang's emotions surged, is this the root cause of making himself familiar?
Why is this flame associated with the system?

"There are still many such gray flames in your clan?" Zhao Wujiang said in a deep voice, although there are many flames flowing into his body, they are basically just a trace.

It is also impossible for each clan to fully bestow the flames on these elders, and there should be more reserves.

"That's natural, but I advise you to give up other thoughts. The profound heritage of the clan is beyond your imagination!" The clan elder and others silently adjusted their breathing, and their cultivation base was recovering rapidly.

Someone flew over from the sky.

Li Changfeng's figure flickered, appearing on top of the ruined wall.

Bingjia collided all around, and the city defense came after hearing the news.

"Let's go." Li Changfeng sighed.

Zhao Wujiang didn't answer, stretched out his five fingers, the flame that disappeared in his hand appeared in an instant, and the green flame curled up.

He felt that his cultivation was a little more domineering, but he didn't feel that his life was being swallowed.

As the armor got closer, there were countless people coming from all around, Zhao Wujiang raised his hand, and the gray flames swam like a dragon, shooting at the clan elders.

The next moment, a shrill and unusual cry came out, Li Changfeng frowned, but he didn't stop Zhao Wujiang.

"Let's go." Zhao Wujiang said with a cold face, the flames swam and returned to his hands.

Li Changfeng narrowed his eyes slightly, he was very aware of the power of the flames, and he also knew that all the clans had hidden the world-destroying flames.

But whether it is the bronze tripod or the flame, Zhao Wujiang can command it like an arm in an instant, as if Zhao Wujiang was the master of the bronze tripod and the flame in the first place.

Li Changfeng of Zhaojia Village in Yucheng sighed, tapped his toes lightly with Zhao Wujiang, and disappeared among the ruins, leaving only a dozen or so dispirited clan elders.

The sky faded.

In Huguofang, everyone is sad.

Wang Yifang was placed in the wooden coffin. The coffin was dark brown and not big, but it was just enough to bury his body.

"Wang Zun was preparing his own coffin a year ago." Li Xiaozuo sobbed with tears in his eyes:

"He didn't use gold and jade, but wood, and he didn't choose big materials. He said that he was afraid that the people who carried the coffin would suffer."

As he spoke, Li Xiaozuo couldn't bear it any longer, and lay down on the wooden coffin and wept loudly.

Zhao Wujiang wore a white cloth on his head, with hemp rope hanging on the end, he couldn't tell what he felt, he didn't feel too much sadness, it was like birth, old age, sickness and death, it was really just like the normal human feelings.

Sometimes his eyes were warm, and there was no big turmoil in his heart, just like Wang Yifang didn't die, but fell asleep from exhaustion.

"Brother respects Duke Wei all his life, and I will bury him in Zhaoling Mausoleum with Duke Wei!"

Zhao Wujiang's tone was firm, and the paper money was burned in the brazier, curling up into the air, and the blackness after burning was glowing red, and was blown down by the breeze.

"Ke Chun." Li Changfeng threw down the yellow papers, glanced at the crying Li Xiaozuo, and sighed:

"But he won't agree! He has been foolish and loyal all his life, and he won't agree with Yifang being buried in Zhaoling."

"He will agree." Zhao Wujiang was expressionless, and his tone was unquestionable:
"must!"

Chang'an, which hadn't rained for several days, also began to rain lightly.

The drizzle is silent, and the candles in front of the soul are quietly curling up.

Li Xiaozuo knelt and sat beside Zhao Wujiang, his eyes were red and swollen, and his pretty face was full of tenderness and tenderness.

Zhao Wujiang stared at the letterhead that Wang Yifang left him, and it was time for a cup of tea.

Wang Yifang wrote two letters to him before his death, and I don't know what kind of secrets they recorded.

"My brother kisses me."

The four characters are full and smooth, and there is a strong affection between the horizontal and the horizontal.

He took out the first letter paper, and the yellow-white letter paper was a little bit translucent under the light of the fire.

The mountains are stretching, and there are a few lights.

Under the darkness are dots of light, flickering in this mountain range from time to time.

The light draws closer, the ancient village in the mountains.

Dogs barking and children crying, women cursing men, laughing and roaring.

In a small earthen house, the firewood crackled and burned, and the yellow mud wall was licked black by the tongue of fire that had been deepening for a long time.

A big hand caressed the mud wall, and when it touched it, it was covered with black ash.

The big hand caressed his face, and the black and gray streaked across. The original ordinary face was painted with a few black marks. He grinned, and then slowly tightened the arrow feathers inserted into his abdomen. Pull it out, bringing out some dark red flesh and blood.

"It hurts, to be slapped by you. Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!
I have hope of immortality!
Ha ha ha ha."

This person was Yuan Tiangang. He fled all the way to this remote village. He was seriously injured at the moment, but his life was not in danger.

The last arrow was thrown aside by him, his hands were covered with blood, he picked up the pitch-black kettle beside him, and began to wash away the blood from his hands.

Behind him were old women and children lying in a pool of blood. Not far from the threshold, a strong middle-aged man was leaning limply on the door with a hoe in his hand. Red and white things are constantly flowing out.

(End of this chapter)

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