Descent of the Phoenix

"You don't want to die." The ethereal voice smashed in the towed clothes, and the ears of the moon rang.

With a slight anger, more is really unbelievable.

What is she doing?

The two sides are opposite, the arrow is on the string, and the murderous murder is on the verge.

The mad horse rushed past, smashed the front of the two armies and rushed toward the front.

"Xiao Chengzhen, the king counts three, if you don't surrender, then don't blame the king is not welcome." The cold and arrogant voice rang in the ear.

She has already rushed to the front of the golden king of the Huns.

"Don't think about it." The same cold voice sounded, and the Queen Mother of the Northern Shepherd was full of forbearance and firmness.

"After the mother, after the mother..." The voice of the five-year-old boy, with a cry of forbearance, with a trembling of fear, smashed over the thousands of northern herdsmen in the north wind of the whirring.

The arrow tightened more and more.

No one noticed that the **** color has spread, and the dead crazy horses and beautiful women can't die.

"Wang, you are the king of Beimu. Remember, you can't soften the majesty of the Northern Shepherd at any time. You can't lower the head of the Northern Shepherd at any time."

Screaming loudly and resoundingly.

With a decisive, with a magnificent atmosphere.

There is no sound, and there is no bang, only the tighter bow, only the **** eyes, the northern animal husbandry, the tens of thousands of people, but in the stern, exudes iron and blood, no The weakness of the Xiongnu’s more than a hundred thousand soldiers and horses is even worse.

The Xiongnu Wang listened to his head and laughed loudly. The vigorous and violent voice went straight through the sky: "Well, this king will look at the time when you can support the Queen Mother of the Northern Shepherd, one."

"two."

The arrow is getting tighter and tighter, and the breath is accompanied by the sound of the King of the Huns.

"three."

The crazy horse beauty is getting closer and closer to the Huns.

"four."

Ouyang Yufei controlled the horse standing on the high slope, unconsciously clenched the hand of the horse, and looked at the moon that was getting closer and closer to the Huns.

"Fives."

Silent and silent, the air whistling in the north, screaming and killing.

"six."