The charming widow of the Marquis's mansion: The stable boy carries the flag and raises the dra

Murong Qing felt a strong arm encircle her waist, the palm warm and rough, the temperature reassuring through the thin clothes.

He looked up and saw Wang Long's face.

The moonlight shone on his face, and his usually cloudy old eyes now gleamed with a sharp light, his gaze as keen as a hawk's as he vigilantly scanned his surroundings.

Murong Qing's heart skipped a beat.

At this moment, Wang Long looked incredibly handsome in Murong Qing's eyes!

Her face flushed slightly, and she quickly lowered her head.

"Is Your Highness...is she alright?"

Wang Long glanced down at her, his gaze sweeping over her body. After confirming that she was not injured, he breathed a sigh of relief.

Murong Qing shook her head and said softly.

"No...it's nothing..."

Wang Long helped her steady, released his arms from her waist, and spoke in a calm voice.

"Your Highness, please sit still and do not move."

Murong Qing nodded quickly and obediently sat back on the edge of the carriage, gripping the carriage shaft with both hands, but she couldn't help but steal a glance at Wang Long.

Under the moonlight, he stood beside the carriage, exuding an aura that brought peace of mind.

Murong Qing pursed her lips, suppressing the strange flutter in her heart, and hugged the bundle in her arms tightly.

Wang Long looked around.

Not right.

That last impact didn't seem like a wheel running over a stone; it looked like someone had deliberately caused it.

He crouched down and looked at the ground where the wheels had rolled.

On the bluestone pavement, there are several thumb-sized iron beads embedded in it, which will cause a violent bump when the wheels run over them.

Wang Long picked up an iron bead, rubbed it between his fingertips, and frowned even more.

Just then.

The surrounding air suddenly distorted!

Wang Long suddenly stood up and instinctively shielded Murong Qing behind him.

"male--!"

Before he could finish speaking, the surrounding scenery began to shake violently!

The houses on both sides of the street, the lanterns under the eaves, and the moon overhead all became blurred and distorted, as if someone had thrown a stone into the water, creating ripples.

Murong Qing's eyes widened as she watched everything around her spinning and distorting, a strong sense of dizziness washing over her.

"Sir! What's going on?!"

Her voice was filled with obvious panic as she clung tightly to Wang Long's chest.

Wang Long's expression was solemn.

The surrounding space is being torn apart and reshaped by an invisible force.

Wang Long gritted his teeth and reached out to grab Murong Qing's hand.

But just as Murong Qing's fingertips were about to touch her!

A tremendous force suddenly pulled him away!

"Your Highness!"

Wang Long's voice was swallowed up by that force.

Murong Qing watched helplessly as Wang Long's figure disappeared before her eyes, as if she had been pulled into the void by an invisible hand.

"Uncle!!"

She cried out in surprise and reached out to grab him, but only grasped at thin air.

The next moment, that force also enveloped Murong Qing, dragging her into endless darkness.

I felt a sudden dizziness.

After an unknown amount of time, the pulling force finally disappeared.

Wang Long landed on both feet, staggered a step, and steadied himself.

He looked up and found himself standing in an unfamiliar open space.

It was pitch black all around, with no clear boundaries, only a hazy, gray mist slowly drifting by.

A faint smell of blood and an indescribable stench of decay filled the air.

Wang Long placed his hand on the hilt of the Tiangang Sword, his cloudy old eyes scanning the surroundings.

"This is a formation!?"

He muttered to himself, his heart sinking.

Someone had set up a formation here beforehand to isolate him from the outside world.

Judging from the intensity of the surrounding spatial fluctuations, this formation is of a high grade, capable of easily trapping martial artists below the fifth rank.

Those who set up the formation were fully aware of Wang Long's strength.

"Who is it?"

Zhao Pojun's face flashed through Wang Long's mind.

Wang Long couldn't think of any other enemy besides him.

But before he could think any further, dark figures emerged from the darkness.

There were eight people in total, all dressed in black, their faces covered with black cloths, revealing only pairs of indifferent eyes.

Each held a short knife in their hand; the blades were pitch black and reflected no light whatsoever.

Each one of them is a fourth-rank martial artist.

Wang Long tightened his grip on the sword hilt.

Eight fourth-rank martial artists.

That's quite a grand gesture.

Wang Long sneered.

If it had been three days ago, when eight fourth-rank martial artists surrounded and attacked him, he would have certainly died.

But now!

Wang Long closed his eyes.

Within his sea of ​​consciousness, the Zhuxian Sword Embryo began to tremble, emitting a sharp sword cry.

The sound of the sword pierced through his consciousness, echoing within the array space, causing the eardrums of the eight black-clad assassins to buzz.

The next moment, the sword box flew out of his body and landed in front of him. The inscriptions on the ancient sword box lit up, and the golden light was particularly dazzling in the darkness.

Click!

The lid of the sword case slowly opened.

Nine beams of light shot out from the sword box and hovered around Wang Long, lined up in a row.

Nine swords, each shimmering with different colors, exuded the terrifying pressure unique to celestial-grade spiritual artifacts.

The oppressive aura was so palpable that it weighed down on the eight black-clad assassins, making it difficult for them to even breathe.

The assassins exchanged glances, a hint of shock flashing in their eyes.

Heavenly-grade spiritual artifact?

Nine at once?

Just who is this old man?

Wang Long opened his eyes, his cloudy old eyes flashing with a sharp light.

"Little Fairy".

he called softly.

The Heavenly Gang Sword emitted a crisp sword cry, and a silvery-white light floated out from the sword, transforming into a small figure.

"Master, are these people here to kill you?"

Xiao Xian'er's voice was clear and melodious, and it was especially clear in the quiet space.

Wang Long nodded.

Little Fairy tilted her head and smiled mischievously.

"It's like a mantis trying to stop a chariot; let them see how powerful Little Fairy is!"

As soon as he finished speaking, all nine swords moved at the same time!

They flew, spun, and darted through the air at an astonishing speed, forming an impenetrable net of swords around Wang Long.

Sword energy crisscrossed, tearing apart the surrounding black mist.

The eight assassins in black did not back down, and they all activated their spiritual power and swung their swords to fight!

clang!clang!clang!

Swords clashed, sparks flew.

The full-force attack of a fourth-rank martial artist was easily blocked by the nine swords.

The assassins were shocked to discover that the nine swords did not require Wang Long's personal control at all; they seemed to be alive and could attack and defend on their own.

It's even more flexible and precise than human control!

"This...this is a spirit of an artifact?!"

One of the assassins cried out in surprise, his voice trembling.

"A spirit artifact? The spirit artifact of a Heaven-rank spiritual artifact? How is that possible?!"

"Damn it! The intelligence was wrong!"

Amidst the exclamations, Wang Long moved.

He didn't make a move himself; he simply stood there with his hands behind his back, watching the nine swords weave through the assassins.

Each sword strike aimed precisely at the assassin's vital points, each sword strike carrying an extremely sharp and fierce sword aura.

Wherever the sword energy passed, the protective aura was as fragile as paper, easily torn apart.

Blood splattered everywhere, and screams of agony echoed throughout.

Ah!

An assassin was pierced through the shoulder by a sword strike, and was sent flying backward, crashing heavily to the ground.

puff!

Another assassin was slashed in the chest by the sword energy, and blood gushed out.

One after another, eight fourth-rank assassins were no match for the Nine Heavenly Swords, like clay chickens and earthenware dogs, utterly vulnerable.

In less than ten breaths, five of the eight assassins were dead, and the remaining three were covered in blood, their eyes filled with fear.

They tried to run, but the formation trapped them and Wang Long together.

"Retreat! Retreat!"

One of the assassins roared and turned to rush into the darkness.

But before he could run a few steps, the Heavenly Gang Sword came chasing from behind and pierced his heart with a single strike.