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The sword wind is like a wheel, and the black sword body drives the white toothed blade on the outside to dance around Forty-Seven like a crocodile's giant jaw, but Forty-Seven is still forced to defend carefully, and even gives up some offensive opportunities so as not to be injured again.

The swords and blades were staggered, and under the control of the skillful skills cultivated by hard training and the precise reaction of the time-honored killing field, they swirled like two poisonous snakes in search of a fatal opportunity, and the figures of the two were constantly changing positions, and Forty-Seven even found a thrill in this almost artistic duel that was no less than a bloody battle-the method of fighting by taking someone back at a time seemed simple, but it was a little rude.

He found another aspect of combat, and perhaps it was time to consider fighting more like a creature rather than hypnotizing himself into a galactic battleship.

With a slash, Forty-Seven slid his shoulders and slid his sword blade across the opponent's blade, thus removing the opponent's point of force, and a fierce spark was generated on the sword, accompanied by a piercing sound of metal scraping. This was something he had just learned from his opponents, and Milia had used it many times to defuse his power enough to break any demon, but she was more sophisticated.

Then Forty-Seven turned around and flicked his wrist from the bottom up, raised his giant sword high with both hands and slashed at the back of Miria's neck, Miria turned around and held the heavy iron block from the split, with a loud noise, it was purely a contest of strength, Forty-Seven had gradually grasped the trick, with strength and a body that was not afraid of attack, coupled with actual combat practice, it was only a matter of time before the skill was achieved.

Then Forty-Seven suddenly exerted his ** giant sword, the small blade on the sword body twisted Miria's sword, pulled and pulled, and then suddenly pushed forward, Forty-Seven pushed sideways like a soldier in the camp in ancient times, breaking the door and rushing to the car hammer - Between the blades of the sword, Milia held the sword and stuck Forty-Seven's great sword desperately, her feet ploughed two deep grooves in the sand, she always tried to unload the great force of the attack, if it was half a day ago, she might have been able to do it, but now the Iron Demon would not give her this kind of opportunity at all, her hand finally weakened, as if she had lost the strength to fight against Forty-Seven, and was swept into the air at once, drawing a long flight trajectory.

Milia flipped in the air and landed heavily on the ground, clenching her weapon but she hadn't let go.

"Oh?" Forty-Seven was a little surprised, as if he didn't expect that even this opponent would be safe and sound, on the other hand, he really didn't have enough fun, so he smiled and asked, "The stimulant effect that your god has given you has passed?"

"Shut up, filthy blasphemer!" Miriah shouted angrily, and rose to her feet, her radiance rekindled, "I call upon the fire of splendor to drive out evil with my meager body—and today we can only get out of this place!"

"Spirited, do you have anything you need me to bring to that male companion I brought you? Or would you better write it down, I really can't count your cozy words, or let me summarize it for you?"

"Shut up!" Milia almost rushed towards her like an arrow, but a great gust of wind and sand stopped her.

Forty-seven swung his greatsword and cut a chasm in the sand, and the sand that had been in the trench was all lifted into the air by him, and then he threw a serrated heavy sword, and the black iron was like a swooping falcon to take Milia's head, and even the sand curtain of his own creation was pierced.

Suddenly, a black blade was reflected in Miria's pupils, like a heavy and sharp guillotine on the guillotine threatening his life, and no one could not panic.

She stopped like a brake, composing herself before the black sawtooth approached her, time seemed to freeze for her, and she used all the strength of her body to stop the black death-scented falcon from passing through her body, just instinctively, only to pass by, and the sawtooth bit off her left shoulder armor, as if he didn't care for her.

Rao is like this, or does it teach her to be terrified, the wind pressures, and it is not only her holy and clean armor that is torn.

It actually missed the target. Forty-seven looked at the distant sand dunes that were scattered and exploded as if they had been hit by a cannonball, and not only regretted it.

He has never been able to change the violent way of fighting that he has cultivated for a long time in a short period of time.

It was almost a natural reaction, and there was no room for thought, but Forty-Seven suddenly changed his mind, and he had actually circled behind Milia as the greatsword slid by, and with just one punch, he was sure that the fight would end once and for all and return with the severed Divine Knight to convey his own final words to her male companion.

Suddenly, the white light was flourishing.

"Ding!" Forty-Seven's iron fist slammed into the lightsaber that Milia held in front of his chest, and although the light dimmed a lot under the impact, it was still good to be strong, if it wasn't that strong... This may be the last chance Forty-Seven gave her.

She rolled and slid for a long distance, and her consciousness returned to her body from the gray area of life and death, and she immediately rolled over and fell low on the sand, curling up her body, if the sword just now only made her mentally impacted, then the punch that almost broke her divine sword was purely physical, although the will of the gods was still clear, but it could not completely eliminate the countless panic and anxiety in that moment.

Forty-seven shook his right hand in annoyance, and there was a scorching smell under the hard armor, so he would actually be burned, so he couldn't touch this glowing white bulb knight at all?

It's tough.

The god-honored knight, who was lying on the ground just now, ran towards him with a glowing sword again, how could he look like an outlaw.

To beat a piece of red-hot iron with teeth and claws with bare hands? Forty-Seven felt very aggrieved when he thought about it.

Forty-seven looked down at his feet, and then raised his foot and kicked it—like a child kicking dust when he was fighting, and Forty-Seven rolled up a cloud of sand. It's just that this mass of sand is driven away by a strong driving force like a cannonball, and it flies straight out, and a rough estimate of the speed of the sand is about 200 kilometers.

Milia stopped sideways and jumped sideways, letting the sand cannonball behind her, her holy power was ineffective against the sand, blocking was just a waste of strength, and then the second sand bomb had entered the attack area, Milia also avoided it again with dexterous and exaggerated body methods, but the body lost its balance because of this, and the third wave of attacks arrived, this time it was forty-seven, he swung his steel right fist hard at the right angle, Milia blocked the grid with his horizontal sword, and the impact force threw Miria far away for the second time, but this time she did not choose to fight with force, but used the impact to let herself pull away so that forty-seven could not pursue。

This was also what Forty-Seven had hoped for, he had no intention of chasing Milia at all, and when he touched the Holy Light directly, his right hand was already numb with pain.

The hand that groped in the sand finally paid off, and the heavy black greatsword shook off the dust from his body, bathing in the moonlight in an arrogant gesture, it and he were.

"'A foolish girl dies here because she doesn't understand that God is like a man and can never be fully trusted', do you like it?"

Milia didn't speak, she was mobilizing all her spiritual condensation power, and she didn't know when she would have to endure Forty-Seven's next attack.

"Ahhhhh

Forty-seven felt the earth vibrate under his feet.

He jumped to his feet and jumped high into the dunes. Milia also retreated in disbelief, not knowing what was happening.

A pillar of sand rose into the sky and spread out in all directions.

Milia, choking on the smoke, coughed a little, why do monsters like to stay underground?

Forty-seven saw the sand flowing in the low-lying area, like a whirlpool. As the sand swirls expanded, Forty-Seven and Miria were almost untenable, as if something was stirring in the depths of the earth.

The thing rose from the ground - it was held up by the surging sand, so to speak. With the emergence of his figure, even Forty-Seven, who should only have logical thinking, suddenly had a trace of awe.

He was so majestic. On the slender neck was a head covered with huge saucer-shaped horns, the monstrous jaws were tightly closed, the sharp spikes on the chin were cascading like whiskers, and a pair of eyes like molten metal balls shot out a qualitative gaze, sweeping over the two of them, the wings that could almost cover the canopy flapped a few times, shaking off the sand above, but at the same time blowing more, the edges and folds of the wings were covered with dark green spots, like patina, and the whole body was like scales made of brass, which shimmered with a warm and radiant color, and with his body, a strong metallic smell diffused, even made Milia feel as if she had a large piece of brass in her mouth.

She was a little dizzy and delighted. It was a dragon -- at least an old brass dragon.

"Humble humans, you have disturbed the sleep of Abazig, Lord of the Noisy Desert, Guardian of the Creatures of the Northlands, Master of the Past and Present, the Supreme Dragon!