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Monsters cover the sky and the sun, and false gods occupy the temples. Yang Zhao was wandering in the rivers and lakes, with only one man and one sword, so he had no choice but to kill him all the way up! From the [Grass] far away from the rivers and lakes, to the [Ninth Five-Year Plan] at the height of the temple From the extremely ugly [Plum Demon] to the charming [Queen of Ten Thousand Demons] From the hidden [Stone Sacrifice] to the [Evil Spirit False God] worshiped by thousands of people From the inextricably linked [Inner Demon] to the identical [Demon God Yang Zhao] No matter how many spells and magical powers you have, can you stop my sword? Yang Zhao cut down the blue sky, cut through the mountains and rivers, cut off the underworld, and became the Holy Lord of the Three Realms!

Lin Chen traveled through the troubled times of Yu, awakened the fate of [Martial Arts Become a Saint], and gained one year of skill every day. I don't know how much stronger I am today than I was yesterday, and I don't know how much stronger I am tomorrow than I am today. ... The long sleeves of the Black Lotus Saint were fluttering. Lin Chen stepped aside and tapped her wrist lightly with her fingertips. The saintly girl felt her true energy pouring in like a river, her meridians were stagnant, her long sleeves turned into crumbs, and her eyes were full of horror-- Apparently three months ago, this kid was chased by demon soldiers and had to flee. Half a year later, at the Qinglong King's celebration banquet, Lin Chen was invited to the main table as a commoner, just because he killed the leader of the demon sect who was besieging the city with one sword. King Qinglong raised his glass to invite people, and he only said "good luck". The purple-robed Imperial Master wanted to spar. Lin Chen flicked the rim of the cup with his fingertips, and a blast of zhenqi shattered the beam behind him. He said in a calm tone: "Young men don't dare." His tone was calm, as if he had just flicked off a speck of dust. The Imperial Master's face turned pale, and the wine glass slipped from his hand. He could feel that it would be easy for that zhenqi to kill him. Many years later, at the top of the imperial city. Emperor Taizu, who founded a century-old business, solidified his dragon energy and commanded the imperial city, asking: "Who are you?" Lin Chen's white clothes are as white as the snow, and his breath is as calm as ever: "A passer-by." Before Taizu finished speaking, Lin Chen had already punched out. There was no earth-shattering noise, only an invisible wave of air spreading. The dragon energy on Taizu's body melted like ice and snow, and was annihilated inch by inch under this punch, eventually turning into dust. Lin Chen looked at the empty dragon chair and snorted: "Can't even block a punch from my 30,000-year-old martial arts? Why are you sitting on the dragon throne?"