665 The Northern Goshawk (2/2)

At this moment, the situation of the South Jin Kingdom cavalries was terrible. If that leader was to dash towards them, they would definitely be panicking and the troops in the middle would be destroyed. As such, the Desolate Men could come face-to-face with the Papal Cavalrymen from the West-Hill Divine Palace. From the look of the Desolate Men's vibe, they seemed to have the objective of swallowing the one thousand Papal Cavalrymen alive.

Cheng Ziqing's face was instantly pale. A clean sword style seemed to seep out from the ordinary military uniform on his body. His sword left his hand and turned into a rainbow, as it aimed straight for that Desolate Man's leader.

A sharp stabbing sound was heard. That flying sword, which was filled with his lifetime's cultivation, had directly sliced across the abdomen of that Desolate Men's leader. Fresh blood burst out like rain, yet the sword style was not done yet. Its hilt dragged that Desolate Man's leader lower body, flung it across the sky and far back to the Wilderness.

Numerous Desolate Men appeared to be stricken by grief as they pounced onto Cheng Ziqing.

Cheng Ziqing's expression did not change. He used his finger as a sword and fought that handful of Desolate Men to the ground easily. As a powerful man from the Sword Garret of the South Jin Kingdom, who has cultivated to a state just below the Sword Sage, Liu Bai, he was still considered as a Grand Cultivator among the Knowing Destiny State cultivators. How could the average Desolate Men defeat him? After all, he had kept low-profile on the previous battles just to accomplish this stunning attack.

Now that he had accomplished his objective, he would not be keen to fight further. No matter how powerful a cultivator was, his body was still weak. In this battle which was replete with flying axes, arrows and the tremor of Qi of Heaven and Earth, he could just be killed at any time due to some unknown reasons. Moreover, after using the strongest attack he had ever launched in his entire life, he was in need for some rest through meditation.

Cheng Ziqing raised his finger in the air and was preparing to recall his flying sword. Just then, he heard drum-like footsteps in the battle from a distance. His facial expression changed dramatically.

Every footstep sounded like drum beats. That person was moving at a rapid speed, but what's faster was the fist. That horrifying and burning fist style, which was a hundred feet away, was aiming towards Cheng Ziqing's face!

Cheng Ziqing's Psyche Power was already drained by then. His body was exhausted and he was unsure how far his Natal Sword had flown. How else could he defend himself against this horrifying fist style? He could just wait for his death.

”Ka Cha!” A crisp noise was heard. A thunder force blasted in front of his body.

That fist style and thunder sound clashed, producing an extremely strong wave in the Heaven and Earth's aura. Cheng Ziqing's horse beneath him was instantly killed by the tremor. His body was also thrown back by the tremor as he fell heavily onto the ground.

A retching sound was heard. Cheng Ziqing's face became as white as a sheet. He could not stop puking blood. With the help of that thunder force, he was fortunate to dodge that horrifying fist style, though he was still badly injured by the waves produced in the Qi of Heaven and Earth when the two forces collided.

What was serious was that he had lost the connection he had with his own Natal Sword. After that incident in the autumn before last year in the Lanke Temple, this powerful man from the Sword Garret of the South Jin Kingdom had lost his Natal Sword after Ning Que destroyed it with an arrow. With the help of his senior brother, Liu Bai, he had finally cultivated his second Natal Sword. Its power was better than before. Now that it had been destroyed again, the damage suffered by him was unimaginably scary.

The first thunder sound roared, followed by the second.

The thunder roar continuously sounded on the Wilderness and an unusually thin lightning shone onto the smoke and dust. That lightning was not from the sky, but from a space that was a hundred feet away from the Wilderness. It had suddenly appeared before it suddenly landed.

The force of these lightnings was not as terrifying as the natural occurring ones, but if they were to land on any human being, they would still produce a horrifying killing force. No matter how strong Desolate warriors were, upon contact, they would definitely be turned into flying ashes.

However, the weird thing was that these empty looking lightnings had not attacked any Desolate warriors which were scattered all over the battle field. Instead, they suddenly disappeared and appeared, as though they were pursuing someone. They were like swords that possessed spirituality.

There was a type of northen goshawk in the Wilderness. Its nest had long been stomped upon by numerous horses' hooves into ruin. That northen goshawk was in fear as it flew around in the sky. It did not bear to leave the place, but it was not able to get its nest back.

As the thunder roared, it could no longer suppress the fear in it as it shrieked twice and flew far away into the sky, abandoning its babies in the nest.

The goshawk did not dare to fly north since there was a dark cloud in the north. It could only fly higher towards the south. The higher it flew, the smaller the humans on the Wilderness looked, and gradually, they looked like closely compacted ants.

If the Firmament had eyes, these humans who had forgotten about death and killing one another on the Wilderness would probably look like small black dots that were tinier than ants. It would, perhaps, wonder or laugh at everything that was happening.