In a small courtyard near the Haoran Martial Arts Center, a middle-aged man and a young man were standing opposite each other, facing each other.
Both of them were tall and strong. Their faces were stern, their gazes were sharp, and their auras were deep. Their exposed muscles looked very soft, but they contained explosive power.
On the other side of the courtyard, there were two other warriors. Both of them had thick legs and broad shoulders. Their entire bodies contained a valiant and shrewd aura. They gave people the feeling that they were two human-shaped tigers and lions. Clearly, they were not ordinary warriors.
One of the middle-aged men with graying temples said, "Feng Lun's Sacred Ancestor Sanshou is both in form and spirit. He once fought against over a hundred bandits alone at the Lotus Cliff. He made use of the forest to wander and kill them one by one. I'm afraid Wu Anzhi is not his match. "
The man beside him had dark skin and a special beast tattoo on his face. After hearing this, he replied, "Although Wu Anzhi's experience is not as rich as his opponent, his physical strength should be above Feng Lun's. Let's see if Feng Lun can explode and finish him off. The two of them have a feud between their sects. I'm afraid this time, it will be a life and death battle. "
The two of them stared at the two people in the arena. In the next moment, there was a blur in front of their eyes. The middle-aged man in the arena had already charged out like a cheetah.
The middle-aged man called Feng Lun was surging with energy. The long robe on his body fluttered up and down. He stretched out his hand like an immortal guiding the way. Especially when he pointed his finger, his fingertips were like a venomous snake. They kept swaying left and right, as if they had created layers of illusions. It was impossible to predict where his finger would land.
On the other side, when Wu Anzhi saw this, his eyes lit up. He saw Feng Lun raise his body slightly and a series of kacha kacha sounds came from his arm. It was as if a male lion had awakened. Following that, he threw out a punch. Amidst the whistling of the wind, the faint sound of a lion's roar could be heard.
This was the result of him practicing the Lion Fist to the acme of perfection. Along with the vibration of his bones and vocal cords, he let out a lion's roar.
Bang! As the finger and fist collided, Feng Lun gave a loud shout. He did not expect that his opponent would be able to master the Lion Fist to such an extent at such a young age. Just as his finger was blocked, his other hand suddenly swung out like a steel whip. With his shoulder as the fulcrum, he swung it fiercely towards Wu Anzhi's stomach.
When Feng Lun used the Hand Whip, his entire arm seemed to have softened into one. It was as if even his elbow and wrist had become one. This was because he had trained the flexibility of his arms to the extreme. Even his wrists and elbows were almost gone.
With this whip, Feng Lun was confident that even if it was a piece of granite in front of him, he would be able to crack it.
If Wu Anzhi had been hit in the stomach by this whip, he would have been split into two on the spot.
Wu Anzhi seemed to know that he couldn't take this whip head on. His legs flashed, and he quickly retreated. However, with his retreat, the most important part of the Lion Fist's momentum was lost. In an instant, Feng Lun, who was on the other side, gained the upper hand.
Feng Lun's attack missed, but he did not show any mercy. His hands left afterimages as they whipped towards Wu Anzhi like a storm.
Every time the Hand Whip lashed out, the sound of air exploding could be heard. Feng Lun's hands were like two large iron whips, wildly lashing out.
Iron whips were weapons that had always been used by generals on the battlefield. The Sacred Ancestor's Loose Hand that Feng Lun was using now was a martial art created by the Da Qi State's Taizu. It used the Whip Technique as a fighting technique, and it was absolutely ferocious to the extreme.
After dodging continuously, Wu Anzhi had no choice but to use one hand to block the inside of his opponent's arm. He had already used all his strength in this move, but he still underestimated his opponent's martial arts attainment.
After Wu Anzhi blocked Feng Lun's Hand Whip with one hand, his opponent's arm was like noodles. It was not strenuous at all. Using Wu Anzhi's blocking hand as a fulcrum, his palm smashed towards Wu Anzhi's face.
The distance was too close. Wu Anzhi only felt his scalp go numb and his heart beat wildly. He let out a lion's roar, and his other fist was already hammering towards Feng Lun's crotch. It was clear that he wanted to die together with Feng Lun.
However, Feng Lun was very experienced. He immediately retreated and dodged Wu Zhian's attack that would have taken both of them down. Although his Hand Whip did not hit Wu Anzhi's face, his palm was like a file, leaving a thumb-sized wound on Wu Anzhi's shoulder.
In the next few rounds, Feng Lun continued to leave wounds on Wu Anzhi's body. Seeing that his opponent's footsteps were gradually becoming weak and his hands were getting weaker, Feng Lun seized a flaw in Wu Anzhi's defense and fiercely whipped towards his temple. If this attack hit, the other party's head would probably explode.
Just when everyone thought that Wu Anzhi was definitely going to die, Feng Lun felt his vision blur. A white and tender palm had already blocked in front of him.
It was Zuo Zhicheng's palm.
The reason why Zuo Zhicheng's palm and the skin on his entire body was so white and tender was because he had practiced the Golden Body of the Devil. The surface of his entire body had a layer of bouncy force that bounced off the old skin, dead skin, and all kinds of dust on his body, making his skin look incomparably white and tender.
There was the sound of an iron whip striking a steel plate. Not only did Feng Lun's attack fail, but he also felt his entire arm go numb. Unexpectedly, his blood and Qi were in turmoil, and he could not exert any strength.
On the other side, Wu Anzhi only felt a strong force on his neck. He was gently picked up by someone and was carried away like a chicken.
After a moment of feeling like he was riding on clouds, he was already more than ten meters away.
Feng Lun knew that someone was disrupting his plan. He snorted coldly and did not care who it was. His other hand was already whipping towards the opponent's chest.
In the short exchange just now, he already knew that the opponent's martial arts were very high. He was afraid that the opponent's martial arts were even higher than his. He used all his strength in this whip strike. The joints all over his body crackled. He twisted his shoulders, and his entire arm suddenly grew a section.
This time, Feng Lun gathered all the strength in his body. In this one move, the air seemed to have been sucked away, and there was a buzzing sound.
However, Zuo Zhicheng, who was opposite him, did not dodge or block this move. He just looked at Feng Lun calmly and let the whip strike his chest.
In the blink of an eye, Zuo Zhicheng's entire body seemed to tremble. The muscles all over his body trembled violently like a great river, transmitting all the power to his chest and then exploding out.
Using the skin on the chest to exert strength was almost unimaginable martial arts. Zuo Zhicheng easily did it with his amazing martial arts cultivation and the contents of the Devil's Golden Body.
Obviously, during this period of cultivation, not only did he improve his Cold Light Wave Sword and Taoist magic arts, he did not slack on his other martial arts. Because of his hard work and the improvement of his physical strength, he also made great progress.
Bang! After the palm and chest collided, Feng Lun's arm bounced back as if it had been run over by a truck. He staggered back more than ten steps before finally stopping. His eyes were as wide as a bull's as he stared at Zuo Zhicheng, who did not move at all.
The two-faced martial artist on the other side was also shocked. His eyes lit up and he looked at Zuo Zhicheng's chest in disbelief. Feng Lun's whip had torn a big hole in his shirt, but his skin was still as white and tender as a baby's. There was not even a trace of red mark.
"Unharmed? How can he be unharmed? "
This thought echoed in the minds of the four martial artists present.
Zuo Zhicheng looked at his tattered shirt and nodded at Feng Lun. "To be able to do this with your current physical strength … Not bad."
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