The reason why Devil May Cry is so confident is naturally because of his strength.

Now, after several failed attacks, he has figured out this miss.

An attack without a chance is no threat, not even comparable to General Shura. But the ability to defend is a real headache, but it is not impossible to solve.

The clumsiness of the body, the large bronze bell, coupled with the nimble arms and maximum strength, largely made up for some, but only made up for some.

The bronze bell is huge, equivalent to a shield, and if you stand in front of you, no matter how good your sword skills are, you will have to return in vain.

But this problem can be solved by devil crying, and there is more than one way. There are three most reliable ones, the first method is to directly slash the memory of the miss, at this time, the blade will be blurred, directly over the bronze bell. The moment you don't have the opportunity to be cut off your memory, you will fall into confusion, and at this time, this is an opportunity for ghosts to cry.

The second method is to directly smash the bell. Earlier, Devil Cry stepped on the bronze bell, and instantly obtained some information, with which he could keep striking the bronze bell and shatter it with the help of just the right concussion again and again.

Both of these methods are good, however, Devil May Cry still chooses the third method, which is the most labor-saving.

The ghost cried and shook his body, and he was about to go to the left. Wuyuan hurriedly put the bronze bell to the left, but the ghost cried and swayed left and right, and the body was generally pulled back, and Wuyuan hurriedly followed and pulled the bronze bell back to the right.

Suddenly, sweat broke out on his forehead.

The weight of the bronze bell is definitely not light, and it looks very light in his hands by relying on strength and skill on weekdays, but in this way, the inertia brought by it makes him a little unbearable.

Before the bronze bell could be put into place, Ghost Cry suddenly bounced up, stepped on the bronze bell with both legs, and leaped over the top of Wuyuan's head to Wuyuan's back.

Unable to be horrified, the pas de deux generally adjusted himself and the bronze bell, and the bronze bell was still in front of the ghost cry.

At this time, Ghost Cry's lips cracked, revealing a mouth full of white teeth and red flesh.

Brush!

The dazzling sword light was like a white rainbow across the sun, and the golden blood was splashed, and he screamed miserably, and hurriedly retreated.

It turned out that in a hurry. I didn't have a chance to protect my right hand, and I exposed my right hand. So Ghost Cry stabbed with a knife, pretending to stab at the door of Wuyuan, but Wuyuan was really fooled, his body leaned back, and Ghost Cry dragged the knife back, cutting his right hand.

He looked at his fat right hand in horror, and sure enough, the next moment, with a "bang", the flesh and blood of his right hand splashed, revealing the white bones of Sensen.

"Amitabha!"

There was no chance to drag the bell back, stirring up dust and smoke on the ground.

Ghost Cry chased after him quickly, his shoulders and head swaying left and right, making it impossible to see whether he was going to the left or right in the next moment.

There was a bang, and the two of them advanced and retreated, the wine jar was shattered, and the aroma of wine overflowed.

As soon as his heart jumped, he saw the ghost cry suddenly jumping high to the side, just like a mountain elf, stepping on the wine jars stacked on the side, and with a few soft knocks, it had already circled to the side.

"Good, good!" he roared, waved the bronze bell, and swept out violently.

With a loud bang, the jars piled up on one side of the wall shattered one after another, and the aroma of wine became stronger and stronger throughout the cellar.

This blow was earth-shattering. Even if it is a thousand catties of stone tablets, it has to be crushed.

However, there is no reason to be frightened in my heart.

No, where are the people?

Overhead, the sword light was like a bright moon hanging in the sky.

Wuyuan hurriedly lowered his head and dodged, and in the splash of blood, his body rolled into a lump of flesh, rolled out flexibly, and suddenly stood firm ten steps away, grabbing the flying bronze bell.

However, a string of golden blood beads flew in the air, and the ears that emitted golden light slammed into the ground with a "snap", and then the small golden light shattered.

Blood flowed down the side of his cheeks, white hot air erupted from his nostrils, his chest rose and fell violently, he took two steps back and forth holding the bronze bell, and a pair of big copper bell eyes quickly scanned back and forth, looking for the figure of the ghost crying.

Overhead, no.

Ahead, there is none.

On the left side, there is none.

On the right side, there is none.

Behind, no.

Foot, no.

The sense of crisis is getting stronger and stronger, and the alarm bell in my heart is like substance.

Wait, it's not an alarm bell, it's a real ringtone. Jingle the bell, it's like ringing in the ears.

Suddenly, the cold hair stood upside down.

The bell was ringing in his ears, and the man who cried was beside him, standing on the bronze bell in his arms.

"My Buddha is compassionate!"

There was no chance to split out a palm, and then the palm hurt sharply. The white knife light pierced through his palm, and the sharp tip of the knife instantly stayed in front of his eyes, and the pupil was less than half an inch. The two eyelashes were cut off by the sharp blades and slowly floated down.

This time, it's the Devil Cry knife that's not long enough.

"Nan no Amitabha!"

The blue tendons on his forehead burst out, and he screamed in pain, and the sharp long knife tore his palm directly along the bone, and blood splattered out without money.

The bronze bell fell to the ground, and it spewed out a mouthful of golden liquid.

The ghost cried and jumped off the bronze bell, and flew backwards ghostly, and in an instant he was ten paces away. The golden liquid spilled on the ground, and suddenly a thick cloud of smoke billowed and the ground became potholes.

He took this opportunity to take a big stride, grabbed the bronze bell and ran up the stairs, raised his scarred palm and slammed it on the stone door at the exit.

His brute strength was so good that the whole cellar trembled, and large cracks spread in the stone doors.

Devil Cry bypassed the smoke-filled ground and picked up a wine jar and held it in his arms.

The blow failed to break open the stone door, and the cold sweat broke out on his body, and for him, the middle of the passage was a little narrower, so that he could not wave the bronze bell in his hand.

He gritted his teeth and simply kicked the bronze bell, which shot out like a cannonball.

Ghost Cry jumped to the side, tapped his feet twice on the wall, and the whole person was high in the air, and the top of the hat had already touched the ceiling.

With a whistling, the largest bronze bell flew past his feet like a cannonball.

Boom!

The bell slammed into the ground, shattering like tofu, and then the bell bounced high and smashed into a pile of jars.

Like a big cat gently falling to the ground, the ghost cries and pats the mud seal on the wine jar, grabs the edge of the wine jar and raises his head to take a sip of wine.

showed a smiling face and walked slowly towards Wuyuan.

Frightened, he crashed open the stone door without a good fit.

With a loud roar, Wuli rushed out of the cellar along with the fragments of the stone door.

A black shadow followed, crashing into Wuyuan's body, and then bounced away quickly, flipped in a circle in mid-air, and fell to the ground like a fallen leaf falling with the wind.

The blade was bleeding and was casually clubbed to the ground. Bent like a bow, facing the sky, opening his big mouth, he caught the sweet wine pouring down from the Milky Way.

The blood spilled into a sea of blood beads, smashing on the ground one by one, shattering bones.

Wuyuan got up, covered his half-torn neck, walked two steps, and sat on the ground again.

"Why!" his neck leaked, and his voice became strange: "Why do you want to stop the poor monk from doing good." ”

"Hey!" the ghost cried and burped, and then looked at Wuyuan with a look of surprise: "Are you doing good?"

"The poor monk is saving them from fire and water. ”

"Don't you really have a coercion in your heart?" Ghost Cry said angrily, "Look at their memories for yourself, do they need you to save them?"

Wuyuan may be speechless, or he may be disdainful of justification, or he may be unable to justify, his tattered hands are folded, and he said Amitabha, and then said, "Donor, can you give that wine to the poor monk to drink." ”

"Yo, are you ready to break the vow?" the ghost cried and teased, but there was no reason not to answer. The ghost cried and looked at Wuyuan with a smile, and finally walked towards Wuyuan.

I didn't have a chance to watch the ghost cry approach, and the still complete thumb clasped the white Buddha beads that looked very small hanging on the fingers.

"Death!" Just when the two sides were only one step, they frowned and opened their eyes, and suddenly burst out.

"Alas!" the ghost sighed.

Bang!

Blood splattered from the wound, and the ghost cried only on one side, and the stocky Roshan rushed past him, booming, and slammed into the ground.

Eventually, the melodious bell disappeared, and the bell on the hilt no longer wobbled.

"Tsk! The ghost cried and shook his head, raised the jar with one hand, poured the elixir, and poured another sip of wine into his mouth.