The moment the teacup was put down, outside the camp master's house, on the long street, blood filled the air, everywhere corpses!

Xu Qing figure such as Menghu, the place, be touched by the blood must splash, ground blood spread, shocking, all the way, all the way to kill!

And in front of him, the guards of the Lord's house rushed forward from all sides, and dozens of strangers, dressed in black, were monks from the caravan.

The two sides have the same goal, both are Xu Qing.

With the continuous approach, the wind blew, blowing the hair in front of Xu Qing. He simply put the long sword he was not used to behind him, and the dagger in his hand. He seemed to blend into the wind and went straight to a motorcade monk in front of him.

In a moment staggered, the head flew!

Between the blood, more black men and guards rushed up.

Xu Qing looked at the team of monks, suddenly, he recalled that the day of the thunder team is indeed in the arrival of the team, go out to buy food materials, but soon back.

Apparently, he saw his enemy that day, so he had to leave early.

Xu Qing is silent, kill meaning more thick, speed full burst, did not dodge, but head-on rush.

Far away, on the eaves, stood two men.

The two are an old man and a middle school. The old man is dressed in a blue Taoist robe, while the middle age is dressed in a strong costume. The former stands with his hands behind his back and looks at the scene in the street with a cold eye.

The latter sat there with a stringy rope in his mouth, and when he looked closely, it was the bowstring of a cross.

The bow string of the cross was unusual, and it was difficult to cut off with ordinary iron tools, but in this man's mouth, it was bitten one by one.

"It's kind of funny, like me, but he only has six or seven layers. He should be more fun than the guy with the cross scar."