C62

Facing the great river and leaning against the great desert, the magnificent beauty of the Sea of Sands at night should have been extremely comfortable. There were no roads within the Sea of Sands, but there were roads everywhere. This was a completely different feeling compared to when he was at the beach or at the Jinyun Mountain Pulse. The sky here felt clean and clear, the stars in the sky were so close that it was almost within reach, but Wu Ming and Sang Yu did not have the intention to look up at the stars, they were troubled.

The approaching Sand Bandit broke the eerie silence of the desert. Soon after, Wu Ming and Sang Yu were surrounded by the torch-lit Sand Bandit s, who surrounded them, making it seem as if the hard ground was filled with soft, powdery dirt that was up to their ankles.

The Sand Bandit lined up in a row and surrounded Wu Ming and Sang Yu in a well-trained manner. He never thought that these Sand Bandit s would actually have the feeling of arraying their troops and setting up a formation. These Sand Bandit did not advance rashly after surrounding the two of them, and instead rode their horses to encircle them.

Because of the trampling of the horses, there was fine sand in the air and it was very uncomfortable for them to inhale the sand into their noses. Many Sand Bandit s had a black cloth covering their faces, and they did this not just to hide their faces, but to block the flying sand in the air. Wu Ming immediately grabbed a cloth and wrapped it around his face, and when Sang Yu saw this, she followed suit.

We are the subordinates of a gust of wind, if you want to live, don't move. The leader of the Sand Bandit shouted.

This is the territory of a gust of wind. Anyone who passes by us will have to hand over their money to buy a road.

Hahaha, I didn't expect it to be two children? Many Sand Bandit s echoed his sentiments.

The Sand Bandit surrounding Wu Ming and Sang Yu constantly sized up the two people in front of them. This man and woman weren't wearing any fancy attire, and were just regretting that they didn't manage to earn much this time.

Sang Yu went closer to Wu Ming and whispered: "These people are not cultivators, they are cultivators behind them.

When the Sand Bandit was encircling him, not only did Sang Yu not leave Wu Ming's side, she was also following closely behind him. Wu Ming and Sang Yu did not know who a gust of wind was, and currently, they only felt that the Sand Bandit in front of them were riding their horses and running like a gust of wind.

Wu Ming nodded his head to show that he understood. He raised his head to the Sand Bandit riders on horseback and said seriously: "You are not my opponent. I will give you a chance.

The Sand Bandit in front walked towards the back. Wu Ming thought that the Sand Bandit had retreated. But the Sand Bandit s did not say anything, a masked man dressed in black walked out from the center. The man in black wore a silver mask and wrapped his entire body in a black cloak. The way he spoke was like the wind scraping against a hard stone. It was very uncomfortable.

You are a cultivator?

This man was the only cultivator here, so Wu Ming was not afraid of these Sand Bandit. His gaze sized up the man who had wrapped himself up like a dumpling. This man gave him an inexplicable sense of familiarity.

Wu Ming laughed: Of course, you are also a cultivator. Since you are also a cultivator, there is no need to call your subordinates to send them to their deaths.

Wu Ming could tell that the man in front of him had the same cultivation level as him, which was an early stage National Scholar. However, he didn't expect that in this group of Sea of Sands, the leader of the small-scale Sand Bandit s would actually be an early stage National Scholar.

The man in black sneered and leaped up from his horse. He put his foot on the horse's back and drew a curved knife from his right hip with his left hand. A clear piercing sound came out in the air as the silver white blade light attacked towards Wu Ming's chest.

Wu Ming held his sword horizontally, yet he did not truly swing his sword downwards to block it. The silvery-white saber light was not as flat as the sword force from most of the sword scriptures, but instead cleaved downwards head-on.

He tyrannically slashed at Wu Ming head-on, the blade accurately landing in front of Wu Ming with the sound of space splitting.

Following the slight movements of Wu Ming's body and wrist, the silver white sheen of the blade seemed to be slightly distorted in the air. When the blade tip was really close to Wu Ming's body, although it was aimed at the neck above Wu Ming's chest, Wu Ming blocked it firmly with his treasured sword and could not take a step further.

This was not a natural swordsman with a left hand. His right hand remained motionless throughout the intense battle. The familiar feeling once again entered Wu Ming's mind, how could there be such a familiar feeling?

This was obviously impossible.

Sang Yu looked at the black clothed man who had wrapped him up like a dumpling. Even when that man was fighting, he had not taken off his burdensome black clothed cloak.

Wu Ming took out his sword, and in this moment, the sword seemed to be thrusting towards his abdomen, but the sword force that was spiraling outwards was instead thrusting upwards, if the opponent had already taken action to prevent it, and realized that there was something wrong with the direction of the sword, it would already be too slow.

Wu Ming began to counterattack with his blade and sword, once again colliding, the black clothed man's blade once again rose up, horizontally right in front of his throat, and actually used an extremely precise move to block the sharp tip of the gale. The difference in strength between the two wasn't too great. Even a tiny moment of time could determine life and death.

The black clothed man took a step forward, his left arm turned, and quickly poked towards Wu Ming's lower abdomen. Wu Ming did not panic, but with a strange posture that no one could understand, he made the sword in his hand form an arc in the air, then cut off the black-clothed man's arm.

Wu Ming aimed at the right arm of the man in black. His sword pierced the man in black's right arm, and that place was indeed empty.

Wu Ming retracted his sword, and took three steps back. "Sixth Brother, when did you become a gust of wind?" You've already lost. Do you still want to continue?

The black clothed man still lost just now, but he was more concerned that Wu Ming had already recognized him. Wu Cunjing retrieved the blade in his hand and returned it to the sheath on his right waist.

The black clothed man pulled down the black cloth that was covering his face, revealing a face that resembled Wu Ming's, and asked: "How did you recognize me?"

Wu Ming scratched his head and laughed: Sixth Brother, just now, when you fought with me, you used the same moves, the only difference was that you changed your right hand to your left. When I first met you, I felt that you were familiar. I didn't expect that it really was you, Sixth Brother.

So you stabbed me in the right hand? Wu Cunjing's voice returned to its original state, no longer the tone of someone deliberately pretending to be it. His tone clearly expressed his dissatisfaction towards his seventh brother, but Wu Ming could feel from his tone that Wu Cunjing no longer cared about his right hand the same way he did back then.

Wu Ming was a little embarrassed as he looked at Wu Cunjing's right sleeve that had been pierced by him. He chuckled dryly and said: "I think it's better than stabbing your left hand, right?"