You asked if there was no return date, and the night rain in Bashan rose to the autumn pond.

Bashan is as tall as clouds.

Yizhou is located in the southwest, with a humid climate and pleasant scenery. It is a treasure land for nourishing people.

This is even more true in Bashan.

The mountain is high, not steep.

A private jet with soft lines landed on the apron on Bashan.

Wang Buren, wearing black armor, walked out strode, and tens of thousands of soldiers in front all clenched their fists with their right hands.

"hide."

Swish.

Tens of thousands of people disappeared in an instant, as if they had never appeared.

Wang Buren strode and stood on a tor.

In the distance, 20,000 soldiers and horses slowly came.

Suddenly, a rain of arrows fell on both sides of the mountain road.

After the attack, the 20,000 soldiers reacted quickly, but they also left behind ten thousand corpses and fled in a panic.

But before he escaped from the mountain road, he came out of the horse-resisting formation, and soldiers with murderous intent in their eyes and cold faces rushed out.

Fei Lian hooked, blood splattered.

Another ten thousand corpses fell off the horse.

The battlefield was sweeping very quickly, and in just ten minutes, all traces disappeared.

Wang Buren smiled slightly and turned toward a small city.

A city was built on Bashan!

Anyone who sees it will be shocked!

This is no longer just a matter of financial resources, but also requires mastering sufficient technology and a large amount of manpower.

The city gate is wide open.

Wang Buren walked in.

Guard along the way, clench your fist with your right hand to your heart.

Many of them were soldiers who retired from southern Xinjiang!

"Wang Buren, pay homage to the Twelve Pavilion Masters! Pay homage to the Dazai Yan Hong, pay homage to all the great masters!"

Faced with a large number of middle-aged and elderly people, Wang Buren saluted respectfully.
Chapter completed!