Many senior officials in Dengxian Pavilion heard You Xiu's evaluation of Jiang Ping'an and immediately looked at Jiang Ping'an.
To be able to reach half of You Qianqiu's level is already extraordinary.
Pavilion Master Russell looked at the apprentice Qian Huanrou beside him, "Xiaorou, I didn't expect that your Taoist companion's talent in soul cultivation is so good."
Qian Huanrou opened her mouth, wanting to say something, but in the end nothing came out.
If she said that Jiang Ping'an's soul cultivation talent was not as good as his physical and spiritual cultivation, the master would definitely not believe it.
Russell continued to mock Huo Haizhou, "Elder Huo, these young disciples of the Discipline Department are not good enough. Do they think about persecuting others all day long and can't concentrate on cultivation?"
Huo Haizhou held the armrest tightly and said coldly: "That's better than your daughter."
"You guys have the nerve to besiege my daughter. Also, who told you that this is the true form of my daughter? Is it possible that she is just an ordinary clone?"
Russell looked at Huo Haizhou with disdain, "I want to see the performance of my daughter, wait until the selection battle for the chief cabinet in four years."
Huo Haizhou said leisurely: "I heard that the pavilion master was seriously injured. I don't know if he can survive until four years later."
"Thank you, Elder Huo, for your concern. My Pavilion Master's injury has healed. If you haven't reached this level, you will never know how strong this realm is." Russell smiled.
"Bang!"
Huo Haizhou's expression changed drastically, and the armrest next to him was crushed.
"I have something to do, so I'll leave first."
Huo Haizhou disappeared from the place and disappeared.
Russell was in a happy mood and looked towards the battlefield again, staring at the man playing the piano.
Jiang Ping'an plucked the strings with his fingers and was immersed in the beautiful sound of the piano. The soul silk was like a "dancer", dancing along with it, harvesting the lives of the monks from the Discipline Department.
After killing an unknown number of people, the disciples of the Discipline Department finally realized that they could not hurt Jiang Ping'an at all.
No one dares to come near anymore.
"Boom~"
Suddenly, a loud noise came from the edge of [Immortal Pavilion Space].
When the disciples heard this sound, they knew that the [Immortal Pavilion Space] began to shrink.
Every hour that passes, the space in the Immortal Pavilion will shrink by one-tenth, and the battle will become more intense.
A monk stared at Jiang Ping'an and asked angrily: "What should we do now? There is nothing we can do against him."
This Jiang Ping'an was obviously seriously injured, but there was nothing he could do about it. He even played the piano in front of so many of them and slapped them in the face.
"Withdraw, leave him alone, earning contribution points is important." Someone said helplessly.
"Retreat? This is too embarrassing. So many people have failed to capture him, and they have to retreat."
"You're awesome, come on!"
Many monks cursed and left. Although they were unwilling and angry, they could only endure it. There was no point in spending time here.
A group of disciples from the Department of Discipline had no choice but to leave. Jiang Pingan ignored them and was immersed in the sound of the piano, even forgetting the purpose of this challenge.
In the music, he vaguely grasped something, and now he urgently needs to feel these indescribable things.
The battle here is over, and those strong men will no longer pay attention to this place.
Jiang Ping'an performed amazingly, but not as powerfully as the other top geniuses.
Shen Tuyi, who had entered the Tao, fought more and more fiercely, and the killing intent around his body materialized, and the killing intent emitted could directly crush low-level monks.
Ran Hongchen, who is gifted with magical powers, controls the power of the mirror, uses the mirror as his domain, and pulls his opponents into it. Anyone who is pulled into the mirror has no chance to come out.
You Qianqiu controlled three soul silk threads and swept them all the way, no one dared to come close...
The numbers on the heads of the three of them have all exceeded 10,000, far ahead of the others.
"Sister Ran Hongchen, come on! I'll beat you to win the championship!"
"Master You, if you kill faster, you can surpass those two people in no time!"
"Shen Tuyi, kill harder!"
Most of the monks are paying attention to the three people. The person who wins the championship must be born among these three people.
As time goes by, more and more disciples are eliminated, the fierce battles become more and more fierce, many monks show their magical powers, and top secret techniques are constantly used.
Jiang Ping'an was immersed in playing the piano. When many monks passed by, they almost thought they were hallucinating when they saw this scene.
This guy plays piano in a place like this? Is there something wrong with your head? Is this a party?
These people were greedy for Jiang Ping'an's contribution points and launched an attack on Jiang Ping'an.
In the end, he became the number on Jiang Ping'an's head.
The space scope of the Immortal Pavilion shrank again and again, and the remaining disciples became stronger and stronger.
The number of people attacking Jiang Ping'an gradually increased.
However, as the number above his head exceeded 10,000, the number of people attacking him began to decrease.
Those who can survive till now are all smart people.
A person who plays the piano unscrupulously has a contribution of more than 10,000 points. How can he be a simple person?
Gradually, the fighting on the battlefield became less and less. When the fifth hour came, the space of the Immortal Pavilion shrank for the fifth time, and all fighting stopped.
The remaining nearly 10,000 monks faced each other from afar, with serious expressions.
The monks who can survive till now are not simple.
The next hour will be the most difficult hour, and anyone may fall.
Everyone is under great pressure. If they lose, all their previous efforts will be in vain and all their contribution points will be given away to others.
Many people don't want to continue playing.
A strong man stood on a mountain peak not far from Jiang Pingan. He was under great pressure. When he heard Jiang Pingan playing the piano there, he became very irritated and cursed:
"What kind of rubbish are you playing? It's not as good as the farts of my one-horned dog! Stop now, or I'll blow your head off!"
The sound of the piano stopped suddenly.
"Ahem~"
Jiang Pingan opened his eyes and took a long breath.
"It's amazing, it's amazing, music actually has such a magical effect."
Jiang Ping'an felt as if his soul had been baptized, feeling unprecedentedly peaceful, and his mental strength had even improved.
"Wonderful, grandma, is the song you play also called a tune?"
When the burly man heard Jiang Pingan's muttering to himself, he didn't know if it was because he had a bad mouth or if he wanted to use curses to vent the pressure in his heart, so he cursed Jiang Pingan.
Jiang Ping'an looked at the past with indifferent eyes.
"What are you looking at me for? If you don't accept it, come and fight. I'll beat you up, you weakling!"
The burly man saw that Jiang Ping'an had a sick look on his face, his breath was unstable, and he was obviously seriously injured. There was no need to be afraid at all.
Suddenly, the strong man's body froze, and he suddenly knelt on the ground and cried bitterly until he disappeared from the place.
The strong man was teleported to the viewing platform. He was stunned for a long time without reacting, and his body kept trembling.
He swore that he never wanted to meet each other again. It was too scary, and he didn't want to experience that kind of nightmare.
Compared with physical obliteration, mental torture is the real pain.
Jiang Ping'an looked at the remaining geniuses and murmured:
"If we don't continue to fight, how can we finally reap the harvest? Give you some courage."
Jiang Pingan put his hands on the strings again and plucked them gently.
"Dong~"
As the strings were plucked, the souls of everyone on the battlefield trembled.
The passionate war song played, the fighting spirit in everyone's hearts was uncontrollably aroused, their blood was ignited, and a powerful aura burst out from their bodies.
"Kill~!"
I don't know who shouted, and the originally silent battlefield became turbulent, spells flew up all over the sky, and fierce fighting broke out.
"Damn it! What bastard is causing trouble!"
