The Demon Lord has too many aliases

Peace returned to the mountains and forests again.

On a big tree next to the boulder, a black shadow jumped down from the treetop and landed silently on the ground.

The slanting sunlight intertwined with the shadows of the treetops, cutting a clear path of light and darkness on the soft and handsome face.

His aura was icy cold, his flying black robe seemed like mist, and there seemed to be ghost fire burning at the bottom of the robe; his long black hair was mixed with a few strands of silver.

Those deep and dark pupils stared straight into the direction of the convoy's retreat.

Suddenly, the corners of his lips curled up slightly, and a chuckle escaped.

"The power of light resistance is running low, and this incarnation can last for up to three days.

” This was the result of him deliberately killing a large number of little demons in the mysterious realm of the vast sea. It was a pity that he was almost exhausted in fighting against the heavenly beings the day before yesterday.

"...Tsk, troublesome.

"Where can I kill a few more people to supplement it? Yan Weilou tilted his head slightly and thought for a while, then took out half a crystal clear jade from his sleeve.

This is the "Thousand Miles Sound Transmission" that was previously seized from Mr. Shen's relics and can only be used three times.

The other half was handed over to Wuhen.

Injecting the true energy in his body into Yujue, after checking the message from Wuhen, he left another message.

Only then did Yan Weilou put it away again.

"Wuhen? He better live up to his name..." His black robe suddenly unfolded, and he rose into the air, flying away in the opposite direction to the convoy.

Three days later.

On the border of Dongli, a border town close to the fiefdom of King Yongqi.

The sky is filled with yellow sand, and the desert wind is as cold as knives, biting to the bone.

In the roadside inn, a warm fire lit up.

The guest who had been trekking for a long time opened the curtain and walked in. He immediately felt that the chill in his body was melted away, and his cold hands and feet regained consciousness.

The chubby shopkeeper huddled behind the counter, holding a cup of tea and drinking it slowly. The lobby was very deserted today.

On normal days, the lobby would have been bustling with activity, but today there was something strangely quiet here.

Just because there was a weirdo sitting in the corner of the lobby.

He was wearing a large black robe, his black hair was stained with frost, and his eyes were filled with ice and snow.

He was lying lazily in front of the table, just hanging his head slightly and playing with a wine glass in his hand.

Neither drinking nor ordering food, he half-closed his eyes and dozed off, like a docile and harmless big cat.

But everyone knew he wasn't.

It was odd enough that he occupied a table by himself when the lobby was already full.

What's even weirder is that the people around would rather crowd together than dare to get even close to the table.

Just because those who had tried to do this before had turned into corpses at the feet of that person and were buried in the long yellow sand outside.

The bloody smell on the ground has not dissipated.

All the people in the lobby did not dare to show their anger. They just drank and ate in silence. There was not even a sound of teeth and chopsticks clashing together.

"Tuk-tuk-tuk..." The black-robed man's slender fingers tapped lightly on the table, and the unhurried rhythm made everyone's hearts beat together.

Until there was a sound of footsteps outside the door, interrupting him.

The door curtain was opened, and a figure floated in along with the cold wind.

In comparison, this seems to be an even weirder person.

The figure was also shrouded in a black robe, but what protruded from the left cuff was a cold iron hook. The visitor's face was covered with a dark iron mask, and a pair of eyes swept across the lobby, revealing a cold light. .

"Sir!" He walked over without hesitation, knelt down on one knee, and bowed his head respectfully.

"My subordinates have already completed the matters you asked me to do.

" "very good.

"The man who was lazily sleeping raised his head, slightly chin, and a careless smile overflowed from his dark pupils, and there was something evil in the coldness.

He hooked his hand, as if calling a hound: "Come here.

"The person kneeling on the ground quickly took a step forward, almost getting close to the other person's knee.

He was indeed as good as a loyal hound.

laugh! A toothy chopstick suddenly shot out without any warning, entering from the top of the kneeling man's head and directly piercing his brain.

No one could clearly see the action of the man in black robe.

It was as if no one knew how the chopsticks, which were originally placed on the corner of the table, suddenly appeared in his hand, and how they were suddenly thrown out.

When they reacted, a stream of plasma had already shot out.

Almost everyone in the lobby turned to stone and turned into statues. Never before had they felt so close to death.

"Oh... you!" The person kneeling on the ground had fallen to the ground, his eyes wide open, staring straight at Yan Wei Tower, which was very close at hand, with reluctance and doubt remaining in his pupils.

“I can only say that your acting skills are so good and so submissive that even I can’t see any flaws.

" Yan Weilou chuckled and kindly answered for him.

“But that’s the biggest flaw.

"Do you think he is really Wuhen when he is called Wuhen?" That guy's acting skills are not as good as yours. No matter how submissive he pretends to be, if there is a chance to kill me, he will definitely not let it go.

" At the end, there was a hint of smile and a bit of expectation in his tone.

It seems that it is such an interesting thing to have a subordinate who wants to kill oneself anytime and anywhere.

Yan Weilou stood up from his seat slowly, with an impatient look on his face: "It's a pity that I overestimated him..." "How can such a loser, who even needs me to rescue him, have the ability to seek revenge from me! He is willing to bear the burden of humiliation and suffer hardships. Drama? Extremely ridiculous.

" As the last syllable fell, Hanyue suddenly unsheathed his waist.

With a faint long cry, at this moment, the dark night fell, and a stream of moonlight fell on the world, revealing endless killing intent in the endless poetry.

"Okay, hand over that trash.

"The night and moonlight intertwined, and his figure seemed to be stepping on the boundary between night and moon, half bright and half dark.

“At least now he’s still useful.

"Someone moved silently in the darkness.

As soon as the wind blew, Yan Weilou's cold knife tip drew an arc in the night, fell diagonally, and finally touched a person's throat.

It was the chubby shopkeeper who had been huddled behind the counter drinking tea.

And on the road between the two of them, everything that was an eyesore had been turned into dust in the silent exchange just now.

Along with it, there were seven drinkers lying on the ground all around.

They all attacked at the same time from seven different directions, with seven different postures, and with seven different weapons at the moment when darkness fell.

And he fell to the ground in seven different ways.

"Sir..." A chill went down his neck, and the chubby shopkeeper squinted his eyes and smiled.

"Where is the person?" Yan Weilou passed the tip of the knife forward and drew a blood mark, "I don't have much patience.

"Chapter 49 Return (3) After only a moment of confrontation, the inn lobby seemed to have been swept by a strong wind, and the tables, chairs and dishes fell to the floor.

The blood of the corpses lying on the ground was still warm.

The guests had already taken the opportunity to run away.

At the opened door curtain, only the whistling cold wind blew in, blowing away the strong smell of blood in the room.

The only two living people stood facing each other among the corpses.

As the blade approached, the chubby shopkeeper still smiled flatteringly, and the fat on his face kept trembling slightly, whether it was fear or anger.

He warned in a good voice: "Swords don't have eyes, so you have to be careful, sir!" Yan Weilou ignored these seemingly meaningful words, and still stood firmly on the spot, with his hand holding the handle of the sword also very steady.

He just spoke in an understatement: "Again, my patience is very bad.

"