"Ghost Martial Clan?"

Zhang Jinsong stood up and nodded politely: "Uncle Emperor, I have just ascended the throne and are not familiar with the various alliances. This Ghost Martial Clan..."

He has never heard of it.

"Your Majesty doesn't have to be so tactful. My Ghost Martial Clan is a hidden clan. It's normal that you haven't heard of it. If you have heard of it, it's strange."

He Qiuchan explained with a smile.

"Ah, no wonder, no wonder." Zhang Jinsong didn't expect the other party to be so straightforward, so he was a little embarrassed.

The hidden clan?

When did the Hei Song Alliance get involved with the Hidden Clan?

Furthermore, why did the Hidden Clan have detailed works in the Leng family?

"The Ghost Martial Clan has their purpose, and we have reached a common opinion on some things. Therefore, we will join forces with the Ghost Martial Clan this time to fight against Kunlun Mountain!"

Zhang Wanhong clenched his fists and gently beat his legs: "Miss He, it's not convenient for Fang to invite your people, show our king's hand?"

Although they had met, the young king was not aware of it.

"Of course." He Qiuchan turned around, strode to the door, and opened the door.

Outside the door, there was a famous old man standing.

"Witch God, I'm working hard." As the saint of the Guiwu clan, He Qiuchan treated the old man very respectfully.

The old man was wearing a gray linen robe, a hood and a cloak, and he could not see the face below.

The only thing you can see is the snow-white beard.

"It should be served, saint, please be polite." The old man nodded, said in a hoarse voice, and walked straight to the stove.

The door was covered again.

The room fell into silence.

Zhang Jinsong looked at the old man who came in and always felt uncomfortable.

This is not enough, but his heartbeat is significantly faster.

My breathing is getting faster and faster, and I can't breathe.

"Dare you ask, sir, respect your surname?" Zhang Jinsong opened his mouth to break the silence.

The old man didn't speak and stood there motionless.

And the four Zhang family uncles also did not move.

Suddenly.

Zhang Wanhong stood up and kicked the stove over!

Coal mixed with Mars and flew everywhere.

Even several holes were burned on Zhang Jinsong's dragon robe.

"Uncle, why are you?"

Zhang Jinsong stood up in a hurry, a little confused.

OK, why are you angry?

"King, I'm going to confess something to you today." Zhang Wanhong took off his cloak and pulled out the long sword from his waist.

That's a black dragon sword!

Only royal families can use it!

The dark sword body actually flashed with a faint green light!

"Uncle Wang, what are you doing... what are you doing?" Zhang Jinsong subconsciously retreated and glanced at the other three people.

But the other three people had only indifference in their eyes.

It was as if Zhang Wanhong's actions were expected.

"If you have anything, just sit down and say it. Did I accidentally offend you uncles? If so, please forgive me."

Zhang Jinsong had a bad premonition.

Especially Zhang Wanhong's action of drawing the sword made him feel inexplicably uneasy.

Even a little scared.

After three years of reign, Zhang Jinsong was walking on thin ice.

I was afraid that I would lose my life if I accidentally did it.

"What kind of virtue can you do? Can you sit in this position? If your father had not left the will, if the three major families were not looking at you, they wanted to balance us through you. What qualifications do you have to be king in front of the four of us?"

Zhang Wanhong was holding the Black Dragon Sword and approaching step by step.

"Uncle...uncles, you..." Zhang Jinsong could hardly imagine that the kind uncles who were usually kind would turn against each other.

"Three uncles, do you mean the same thing?"

He took three steps back and couldn't help asking.

The other three people did not speak, which was a default.

"Haha." Zhang Jinsong suddenly laughed. "It turns out that the four uncles invited me to discuss things, and they were already ready to kill me!"

In three years, the four people he trusted the most were the four people in front of him.

But now...

Zhang Jinsong's eyes suddenly turned red.

"Can the flesh and blood affection not be able to resist the throne? Can't my respect for the four uncles be exchanged for your support?"

"The throne is not that easy to sit on." Zhang Wanhong held the sword and laughed: "Boy, you have been the king for three years! You could have sat in this position for a few years, but no one expected that there would be foreign enemies attacking the Hei Song Alliance at this time. Now if you kill you, you will be blamed on the messenger of Zuoqiushan outside. Who would you doubt?"

"mean!"

Zhang Jinsong put his right hand on his waist and pulled out the black dragon sword that symbolized the royal power.

There are nine dragons on this sword, and there are only eight dragons on the black dragon swords on the waists of Zhang Wanhong and others.

The Nine Dragons symbolize the Nine Five Lords!

Only the king is qualified to wear it.

"Give up, I may be able to spare you." Zhang Wanhong spoke coldly.

"My throne was passed down by my father! Even if I die, I will be the king of the Black Song Alliance! Uncle, come on! I will never be able to do what you wish. Remember, you are the regicides!"

Let’s go!

Zhang Jinsong swung his sword and slashed out!

He tried his best to do this sword!

Unreserved!

Because he knew that this was the last sword in this life!

clang!

The long swords collided!

A whine sounded.

It seems to feel sorry for Zhang Jinsong.

Not unexpectedly.

Zhang Wanhong knocked on Zhang Jinsong's sword with a sword and then stroked forward.

Sla.

The dragon robe is broken!

There was a deep blood mark on Zhang Jinsong’s chest!

"What's the use of the last stubbornness? But it's not bad. It's my Zhang family's kindness, and it has backbone." Zhang Wanhong held the sword, grabbed Zhang Jinsong's neck with his other hand, and pulled him in front of him.

Four eyes are opposite.

"Is the puppet's resistance meaningful?"

"Pooh!"

Zhang Jinsong spat and sneered, "Although I die, I am still the king. And you are just a minister! The monarchist is a rebellious minister!"

“Okay, very good.”

Zhang Wanhong slowly stabbed the long sword into Zhang Jinsong's body.

A cold feeling came.

Zhang Jinsong felt the long sword slashing through the internal organs little by little and coming out from his back.
To be continued...