Devil Seeds

Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!

The drum beats are gentle and deep, but with each beat, the air seems to vibrate.

An inexplicable sense of urgency came quietly like this.

It's like something is chasing after you.

I can't help it... I can't help it, I want to speed up my pace, I can't help it, I wish I could run like lightning.

Wang Yu suddenly thought of the possibility that he had overlooked.

Those things that he made up indiscriminately at this moment are like messed up memories, hitting him like raindrops.

"Is it possible that only those who reach the finish line within a certain period of time are considered qualified? Could it be the top few who have reached the finish line before being selected? Will those who are eliminated be entered Some kind of unbearable situation? Or directly in this world, reaping death?"

The messy memories, the messy worries and concerns, began to trample like a tide.

Under this chaotic harassment, Wang Yu was originally relaxed, but suddenly became more urgent.

His life was not without failure.

If there were no accidents...he should have accepted and got used to this kind of failure as a matter of course, and found a kind of self-comfort and balance from these failures.

It was the process of finally having no choice but to admit that I was mediocre after going through the world and struggling.

Many people go through this process.

The selection of fate sometimes does not depend on personal ability and ambition.

Maybe it's just because someone threw a leopard while making the sieve, while someone had their chips stolen and was not allowed to reveal the game.

However, when the turning point came, fate played a kind of joke with Wang Yu.

He suddenly soared into the sky and became the suzerain of the Ten Demon Sect.

Standing in a position that I didn't dare to think about before.

The soul that may be mediocre is no longer willing to do so.

At this moment, Wang Yu could no longer calmly face failure.

He needs to use success again and again to stabilize his status and strength.

Even if he is very lucky to become the suzerain of the Ten Demon Sect.

But he didn't want to be called the suzerain of the most water ten demon sects all the time. Since he was standing in the gust of wind that went straight to the sky, he didn't want to be dragged off the tuyere and return to ordinary life.

While thinking about it, Wang Yu couldn't help speeding up his pace, stepping on the drumbeats, he speeded up.

Fuzhu is a god who is good at speed. As a warrior of the Fuzhu tribe, Wang Yu's speed is certainly not slow.

The huge body, every step it takes, seems to surpass the mountains and deep valleys.

The wind surrounded Wang Yu and seemed to be urging him, so excited that Wang Yu walked faster and faster.

Gradually, Wang Yu seemed to hear some voices speaking in the wind.

He carefully wanted to identify, wanted to listen.

But I can't hear anything clearly, just like what I heard before, it's just some hallucinations.

Gradually, Wang Yu began to hear some loud shouts, some wild shouts coming along the wind, some incomprehensible murmurs, some ancient and heavy footsteps that seemed to be slowly returning.

There seemed to be a crowd of people around him.

But it can't be seen or touched at all.

"This is by no means an auditory hallucination."

"A lot of people are walking with me. This is their voice, but I can't hear what they are saying."

"It's as if these voices, these languages...are not quite the same as the language we speak now."

Woo... woo... woo!

The sound of the deep horn came faintly from the depths of the dense fog, as if it merged with the sound of the drum.

But at this moment, Wang Yu felt the difference between the sound of the horn and the sound of the drum.

They don't seem to happen at the same time.

One seems to have experienced the precipitation of time, but the other seems to have penetrated the barrier of time, bringing the sound of the future from a more distant future.

Wang Yu suddenly became a little fuzzy.

He began to forget the time gap, and even the traces of the years.

His body began to become a little decayed.

The strong divine body also became slightly rickety.

Suddenly, Wang Yu woke up with a start.

He thought of a part of the 'strategy' that he had put together indiscriminately.

"I once wrote that all the warriors who challenged the Ten Thousand Races Conference had to face off against the shadows left in the Western Emperor Mountain by those warriors from the past. In this way, the warriors from generation to generation will become stronger and more capable. To please the gods... This is just my unreasonable speculation about the Ten Thousand Clans Conference in Xihuang Mountain, and even... this is a kind of mystical statement. As we all know, the mysterious high-level posture is forever unknown, and time Tricky."

"I just mastered the code of people's demand for the unknown, and used this code to make a little money."

"This didn't interfere with anyone."

"But why...why does everything seem real?"

"It seems to be confirming my random theory?" Wang Yu felt an inexplicable malice.

It was as if a pair of palms existed in the dark, fiddled with his fate easily and recklessly, and then stood on the river of fate, teasing his stupidity and shallowness.

But in an instant, Wang Yu felt his 'self-righteousness'.

Those ridicules and teasing were all just his wishful thinking.

Just like on the Taotao River, every wave once thought that it was different, but in fact, it was no different from other waves in the eyes of others.

Suddenly, Wang Yu's feet were empty.

The path under his feet... was broken.

Subconsciously, he must mustered up all his strength, and then jumped up vigorously.

However, no matter how hard he tried, his falling posture did not change.

He heard the voice again that seemed to come from the past, but also from the future.

All kinds of shouting, struggling, and roaring voices converged in one place through the thick fog, but it turned into a strange silence again inexplicably.

The world is so complicated and noisy...but he is so lonely and lonely.

People walk through this boundless thick fog, whether they are moving forward or falling continuously, they are like an unsearchable island.

Wang Yu is still falling.

He began to work hard to let go of his thoughts, to let go of his fear and hesitation.

He wanted to imitate the brave warriors among the aborigines in those wild worlds.

If this is a game of the gods, then what exactly do the gods want to see in these mortals?

Is it the panic, fear, and anger in the face of difficulties, or the courage, calmness, and persistence to overcome obstacles?

Or both?

Wang Yu couldn't get the answer.

Because he is not a god!

He is just a clown who was played by fate and pushed onto certain stages by fate.

All the seemingly exaggerated efforts are also trying to do their best to control their fate at the mercy of others.

Of course, there are many, many people who have had similar encounters with Wang Yu.

Even those guys who think they are the best, how can they guarantee that there is no more terrifying force behind them, pushing them invisibly?

Matryoshka is prohibited here!

At this moment, in the same situation, apart from a large number of ordinary monks, there are also some real immortal monks.

Zhang Baicheng... once again became the representative of these true immortal monks.

Ke Xiaoliang can see everyone in one glance.

However, it is impossible to state everyone's experience in a simple and quick manner.

So, a representative is still needed here.

It is different from Wang Yu's confusion.

Zhang Baicheng looked very sophisticated.

Zhang Baicheng thought that he had seen clearly about those foolish dramas of gods.

So when his feet were empty, as if trapped in a wormhole of time and space, and began to fall infinitely, Zhang Baicheng did not show any panic, nor did he show any intention of resisting.

He loosened his grip on his body.

He even stretched leisurely in mid-air, and then lay crookedly in the wind.

It seems to be a faction of resignation.

When God sees you as a joke.

And when you can't fight, then at least you can choose...to let go of your mind and make yourself appear as much as possible, not like a joke.

This is Zhang Baicheng's simple conclusion based on his past experience.

As for how to appear in the wild world and reality at the same time, the two-way simultaneous problem....

This should not be a problem for the real immortal.

Now that in a sense, we have begun to look at time with a longer-term perspective, we can use the time reluctantly to play with a little bit of trickery.

The methods used by Zhang Baicheng were not just doppelgängers and distractions.

On his own body, he ideally cut his own time.

Only internally, not externally.

It didn't directly interfere with reality... but it has affected reality in a disguised form.

This is the characteristic of the life of mythology, and it is also one of the foundations for the existence of mythology.

If there are no such differences, how can they dare to claim that they are higher than ordinary life, a whole dimension?

At this moment, it doesn't matter what Zhang Baicheng looks like in reality.

Let's just talk about Zhang Baicheng who is in the wild world, on the Xihuang Mountain, participating in the Ten Thousand Races Conference.

Gradually, Zhang Baicheng felt that his body stopped falling.

Instead, it began to float crookedly.

There is an invisible force that is quietly pulling him and guiding him to move slowly.

Occasionally, he would feel as if he had touched something.

But before I feel any real touch, I touch it and go away.

Those voices from the past or the future gradually flew away.

The world was quiet again.

Even the breathing of the wind became extremely silent, as if he was holding his breath and concentrating.

When his mind was relaxed and his will was firm and stable, Zhang Baicheng's eyes barely saw through the thick fog, and saw some dark soil in a trance.

It seems that as long as you use your strength, you can get close to those soils and take root on them.

Zhang Baicheng didn't deliberately approach, but just kept concentrating, constantly looking at the soil that drifted past him time and time again.

After a few more 'misses', Zhang Baicheng was confirmed.

There is no living thing on those soils.

They seem to be just a part of this chaotic fog, simply like some useless world waste, piled up here, and then form a useless cycle.

Zhang Baicheng's judgment was not wrong.

It really is a 'garbage dump'.

The so-called Ten Thousand Clans Conference, the so-called Western Emperor's Mountain... is actually the broken mythical world, when it merged into the wild world, it couldn't integrate into the whole wild world.

Ke Xiaoliang gave up the place that was originally used to hold the Ten Thousand Clans Assembly.

Because relatively speaking, it is too common and ordinary.

It doesn't have to be so unconventional.

But at least...have your own style.

Otherwise, how could it leave a deep enough impression in the minds of those well-informed monks?

The broken mythical world, after being integrated into the wild world. Its extra leftovers, discarded residues, redundant information, useless so-called treasures, and those sediments that should have been discarded outside the world.

They were all piled up here by Ke Xiaoliang's waste, forming a strange, special area like a Mobius ring.

It simultaneously takes into account simplicity and complexity, destruction and rebirth, and crushes the broken past and future into this cycle.

It seems to be the last remnant of the world, with a kind of loneliness and sadness that does not exist.

All the people who came to participate in the Ten Thousand Races Conference were thrown into this Mobius ring, just like being in a drum washing machine, constantly turning upside down, spinning, shuttling, and whirling.

Here, people will gradually blur the concept and value of time and space.

And gradually sinking deeply into my heart.

In the past, Ke Xiaoliang liked to use the external environment to create horror and frightening effects. It was simple sensory stimulation, superficial and superficial.

After that, Ke Xiaoliang would use his emotions and experiences to create larger and more thorough sorrows and fears. At that time, he had already begun to learn to start from the heart, touch and even create wounds in the heart. Only the blood squeezed out will hurt the heart, and will break the firm defenses of those monks.

But now...he only needs to give people a little quiet time and space, and let them face their poor and fragile hearts naked.

Neither time nor space can be relied upon.

When the smoothing of the years and the forgetting of self-protection in memory have become a distant luxury, those things that have been ignored, ignored, forgotten, and deliberately discarded will come like a flood.

Joy and sorrow are not connected to each other.

Natural fear and malice cannot complete absolute unity.

Only the truest heart can make the devil appear.

Just like in the dead of night, when you are alone, you can't fall asleep thinking, often startled and chilled.

Ke Xiaoliang already understood it too well!

He has gradually realized the true meaning of his demons.

It was not a loud noise.

Not something to fill the desire.

Not words of temptation.

Not some hustle and bustle of action and movement.

It has nothing to do with killing, blood, death, disaster... and so on.

Mortals may be terrified to despair in the face of all this.

However, monks are not ordinary people. From the moment they set foot on the extraordinary, the fear that belongs to ordinary people gradually moves away from them.

So... the test left by Ke Xiaoliang. It's just silence, even the silence of abandoning solitude, even the silence of abandoning time and anxiety.

Quiet to the point... the world all comes down to one point, but 'I' is outside this point.

All emotions will be withdrawn from the ego.

The fear of the unknown, of ignorance, of self, and of things beyond self will be infinitely magnified.

At this time...the smarter the person is, the more he will generate endless panic.

The more knowledgeable people are, the more they will know how desolate the silence outside this emptiness and loneliness is.

They feel like life is supposed to be like this.

They will recall faces that were once forgotten hundreds, if not thousands of years ago.

Those 'selves' that have long been unfamiliar will burst out, and then question the soul of them now.

Ask some naive questions, but can't get a satisfactory answer.

At this time, living long is no longer an advantage, but a disadvantage.

Because countless past 'selves' will question one after another, and then quarrel.

Being well-informed is no longer a qualification, it is a cruel punishment.

Those who have seen it, but missed it.

Those who have the opportunity to change, but hesitate.

All emerged together, turning into bursts of intense sadness.

People's suffering does not lie solely in their powerlessness at the time.

Rather, it is that after the simple miss, every time I look back... I will have infinite regret and pain because I didn't try my best. In the end, in this painful numbness and numbness, I changed myself invisible until I was completely strange.

The once hot-blooded boy has become a philistine old fritters.

The teenager who once longed for pure love is used to bringing cards in his hand, and then using money to insult another person's personality.

The young man who used to love to run turned himself into an innocent prisoner for a few taels of silver. He looked at the sparrows outside the window and massaged his old waist...

These are maturity, these are changes, these are growth, these... are all betrayal and killing.

Those who receive the body will never die, and longevity is the catastrophe in the endless hell... I have to say!

Or the monks know a lot.

It's no wonder that the most powerful demons will somehow have something to do with the monks.

In this special atmosphere and environment, in the cycle of ruins outside the world, Zhang Baicheng began to recall his past.

As he returned to the familiar yet unfamiliar homeland world, those memories that were originally alienated repeatedly invaded his mind, and the things that were originally fixed by a powerful mind now seemed to be like isolated islands floating by. , began to reveal the past self.

He was once a romantic young man, and he was once invincible in the world. His radiance shrouded an era. He was the shadow of everyone chasing after him. His voice...was able to suppress the tide of the whole world.

But now, he is living like a dog, just like the kind of people he despised the most, like those countless people who used to prostrate at his feet.

Ordinary, mediocre, stupid, and numb, but none of these are the choices of the "self".

He even recalled a sorceress he met in a dirty flower street in the Real Devil Realm.

She even sells the memory of being a beautiful girl in the sky, making customers more eager to consume and impulsive.

It's as if writing the words 'school flower' or 'artist' on the cover of the mysterious code will make it a big hit....

The bleakest moment for a person is nothing more than betraying his past self.

At this moment, Zhang Baicheng was broken again!

The emotional leakage was much more serious than the last time the defense was broken.

The one who broke through this line of defense was precisely himself.

Waves of magic points began to be exported towards Ke Xiaoliang crazily.

The magic points consumed before began to pay back substantially.

And a small part comes from the magic value of real immortals, which makes Ke Xiaoliang feel precious.

These special magical values ​​are too important to supplement the hypocrisy of the "myth" in the wild world.

Even, in this wave of harvest.

Ke Xiaoliang has already prepared the capital of the gods that needs to be revealed for the real opening of the Ten Thousand Races Conference.

Endless torture, self-inquiry across time and space... Just before the heart collapses, the dawn of breakthrough is ushered in.

It's like cleaning the dust.

It's like asking yourself.

Zhang Baicheng appeared on the top of the mountain.

The wind on the top of the mountain is very strong, and the cycads and silver flowers in the distance are still beautiful and gorgeous.

However, Zhang Baicheng felt like a lifetime away.

At this time, he is no longer mature, nor is he low-key.

A kind of publicity released from the inside to the outside is turning into a rolling momentum, spreading in all directions.

He found himself back.

That Zhang Baicheng who was once proud, who was once invincible, and who once made countless people fearful.

This may be a good thing.

Ke Xiaoliang's 'test' once again achieved a win-win situation.

Of course...it may also be a delay.

It wiped away Zhang Baicheng's thousands of years of growth in the real devil world.

When a person who is not smooth enough is in a position where he should be smooth... Whether he is crushed by the times or rises against the trend is entirely up to him.

Zhang Baicheng was not the only one who broke through the torture of the mind and stood on the top of the mountain.

There are many more people who appear one after another.

And there's no question...they're each in high spirits.

Most people are born proud, just the edges and corners smoothed by reality.

But now, Ke Xiaoliang made them face themselves and regained their edges and corners.

Therefore, although there is no opening statement, these equally proud people are standing on a high cliff, looking at each other, and the war is about to break out.

Accompanied by the fall of the last drumbeat.

Wang Yu also appeared on the top of the mountain, looking at the dazzlingly proud people around him.

He is still the most mediocre one.

This instead made him noticeable.

"Come!"

"Fight!" A true immortal in reality, this time a warrior of the Xiqu tribe, first issued an invitation to fight.

After cleansing the dust in his heart, at this time... everyone present was full of fighting spirit.

"good!"

Zhang Baicheng didn't hesitate, didn't keep a low profile, didn't wait, and didn't make trouble, and then reap the benefits.

He rose to the challenge head-on and with confidence.

He wants to win!

He hasn't won a hearty victory in many years!

So now, he needs to win!

It's not the kind of win that uses conspiracy to calculate.

It's the kind of one horizontal and one vertical, one lying down and one standing up to win.

After the simple, concise voice fell.

The more concise fists blasted towards each other!

No dialogue needed!

The battle curtain has been opened!

More fighters looked at each other.

With just one word, the two of them collided, and a battle broke out.

Invisibly, these people are being assimilated by this world.

This is the charm that a strong world should have.

Instead of being guided to mutate by outsiders, it is to assimilate those outsiders and digest and absorb everything about them.

I feel very comfortable writing big chapters recently! I often write big chapters!

Of course, although there are fewer chapters, the number of words is not short.

So... good night everyone!