The Great Dream God

Under Meng Jin's fierce and violent double attack, the entire space seemed to be torn apart, and the surging power was like a wild horse running wildly. The monk with the big knife was instantly trapped in an irretrievable desperate situation, and his eyes were filled with fear and despair.

"This is your end, monk with a big knife!" Meng Jin's eyes were cold and his words were full of majesty. The voice seemed to come from the abyss of Hell, making people shudder.

The two mighty and vast forces, like a surging and unstoppable torrent, swept towards the monk with the sword with overwhelming force. The power was so strong that it seemed to swallow up everything in the world, and the surrounding air was squeezed by this powerful force and made waves.

The monk with the big knife looked at the approaching force in horror, his body shaking uncontrollably, and shouted in despair: "I won't accept it! I won't accept it!" His voice was filled with unwillingness to his fate and fear of death.

"Your sins have doomed you!" Meng Jin's voice was firm and powerful, like a sledgehammer, hitting the big knife monk's heart hard.

The force was like a raging beast, instantly devouring the monk with the big knife. His originally solid body was now as fragile as a piece of thin paper, unable to withstand this powerful force. With a "bang", his body instantly broke apart, turning into countless tiny fragments that flew in the air.

"Ah!" The monk with the big knife screamed in pain, "This power is too terrifying!" His voice echoed in the space, making people shudder.

The originally solid body was powerless in the face of this powerful impact. The scattered debris, under the reflection of the bright sunlight, glowed with a strange, bizarre, and dreamy light.

"This light..." someone exclaimed, his voice full of surprise and fear.

"This light seems to conceal some unfathomable mysterious power, as if the sinful soul of the big knife monk is making its last desperate struggle." Meng Jin explained, with a complex emotion flashing in his eyes.

Each piece of debris carried the numerous sins he had committed in the past and the endless pain in his heart. They were like cursed fragments, flying wildly in the air, as if telling the world about the various evil deeds of the monk.

"His sins will disappear with these fragments," Meng Jin said, with a hint of relief in his voice.

The breeze blew quietly, carrying these fragments of sin and pain, floating slowly in the air. The fragments danced to the rhythm of the wind, and the scene was both sad and beautiful, and made people feel a little sad.

"Look, the debris in the wind seems to be telling a tragic story." said a bystander, his eyes full of emotion.

They seemed to be whispering about the past of the monk with a big knife, and those unbearable memories gradually emerged with the flying debris.

"How many innocent people has he hurt!" someone sighed, his voice filled with anger and sadness.

Gradually, they slowly dissipated in the wind, just as the dirty and sinful soul of the big knife monk was completely purified.

"It's finally over." Meng Jin breathed a sigh of relief, a trace of fatigue appearing on his face.

This space, which was originally filled with tragedy and blood, returned to peace in an instant, as if nothing had ever happened.

Xu Xiaofeng looked at the scene in front of her, feeling deeply moved. She turned to Lisa and said, "These monks from the Tianlong Temple have finally received the punishment they deserve. They have committed many evil deeds, and this is their fate."

Lisa nodded and said, "Yes, their crimes will not be covered up."

However, the development of the matter did not end as people expected. The chanting monk who was hiding among the monks with big swords suddenly emerged from among the broken bodies in an extremely strange way.

Their figures were like ghosts in the dark night, erratic and elusive. The figures seemed like illusory phantoms, looming in the hazy light and shadow. Their eyes revealed a creepy evil aura, which was like thick black smoke, slowly spreading in the surrounding air, like an invisible net, covering the entire space, making people feel a heavy depression and deep fear.

These sinister monks, with their ulterior motives, attempted to put their evil ideas into practice. They targeted Meng Jin and attempted to possess him to achieve their evil purpose. Their minds were like the darkness in the abyss, deep and terrifying, making people shudder. Their existence, like the messenger of darkness, brought endless fear and uneasiness. In this atmosphere filled with evil, Meng Jin seemed to be trapped in a nightmare that was difficult to escape, and the evil monks, like the master of the nightmare, wantonly weaved a chapter of horror.

How could Meng Jin allow their conspiracy to succeed? He shouted angrily, and the sound was like a huge bell, or like thunder from the sky, with the power to destroy the world, exploding and shaking the world. As soon as the sound came out, the air around him seemed to tremble and make a buzzing sound. His palm wind was like thunder, containing endless anger and majestic power, and it slammed into the group of monks with overwhelming force.

Instantly, a shrill scream pierced the sky and resounded through the clouds. The sound was like an extremely sharp sword, piercing straight into the depths of everyone's soul, making people tremble. In front of this powerful force, the monks had no power to resist and were instantly torn to pieces, turning into wisps of black smoke and dissipating into nothingness.

At this moment, Yulong Temple was shrouded in blood and terror. On the walls of the temple, blood spurted out like a fountain, and the scarlet liquid slowly flowed along the walls, gathering into shocking rivers of blood. On the ground, there were piles of incomplete corpses, some with twisted limbs and some with broken heads. The tragic scene was unbearable to look at. The air was filled with a strong and nauseating smell of blood, as if a layer of substantial blood mist had formed, covering the entire temple.

The bright sunshine poured down on the ruins, but the warm light could not dispel the gloomy and cold atmosphere. This place seemed to have turned into a purgatory on earth. The atmosphere of terror spread, making people shudder. Every inch of land and every breath of air seemed to be telling of this tragic disaster, making people feel endless sadness and fear.

The monk, seeing the situation before him as irreversible as a collapsed building, suddenly had a vicious plot in his mind. He was like a downtrodden and miserable stray dog, crouching humbly on the dusty ground, trying to deceive the armored soldier who had already fallen into madness with lies.

This man was eloquent, his words were like flowing venom, he spoke without scruples, and wove false lies without scruples. He even boasted that he had the magical power to resurrect other people's children. Such absurd words should be easily brushed away like dust in common sense. However, for the armored soldier who had lost his mind and was swallowed by endless pain and despair, it was like a ray of illusory dawn in the dark abyss, exuding a very bewitching and strange charm.

The monk's eyes flashed with cunning light, and his expression was twisted and weird. He used his eloquent tongue to describe this absurd lie vividly. His voice echoed in this chaotic atmosphere, as if with a strange magic, trying to hold on to the last fragile hope in the heart of the armored soldier. The armored soldier who fell into madness revealed a trace of confusion and desire in his eyes. In this abyss of despair, he was like a drowning man, willing to desperately grab even an illusory straw.

The armored soldier's body was trembling slightly, his heart was devoured by endless anger and sadness, and he had become a pitiful person. The grief and anger were like a blazing fire, burning his reason and driving him to the brink of madness.

Without a second thought, he resolutely raised the cold sword in his hand. In the dim light, the blade flashed a frightening light, as if it was the sickle of the god of death, waiting to harvest lives. As the sword fell, a flash of cold light flashed like lightning, so fast that it was almost impossible to see clearly. With a muffled sound, the monk's neck was cut off in an instant, and his head rolled to the side. Blood gushed out like a spring, like a scarlet waterfall, dyeing this sad land red. The bloody scene was shocking.

Then, he slowly raised his head, his eyes full of madness and despair. That look was like the abyss in the darkness, chilling. There was no longer any reason or humanity in his eyes, only crazy obsession and endless despair. He was like a wild beast out of control, exuding a chilling breath, which seemed to freeze everything around him. Then, he roared like a beast and rushed towards Mengjin like a whirlwind.