"Black Dragon Blade!" Cang Lang's eyes were fixed on the short blade, and he couldn't help shouting: "Yes, there is such a treasure! I remember that this was once the personal weapon of Hua Yun, the master of the Huajian Sect.
What is your relationship with Hua Yun?"
Zhuo Yifan curled his lips and said dissatisfiedly: "Are you checking the household registration? Are you going to check or not?"
Canglang sneered and said: "Good boy! Just by your words, you should die!" As Canglang said, his dark arms flashed, and the software trembled like a spiritual snake and moved towards it.
Zhuo Yifan's chest □□. When reading the novel, the pace of Canglang was so fast that Zhuo Yifan couldn't help but be slightly surprised. It was actually a minute faster than himself.
Zhuo Yifan held his breath and concentrated, not daring to take it lightly, staring closely at the flying wolf. Just when the soft sword of the wolf was about to touch his clothes, Zhuo Yifan turned sideways and narrowly avoided the first blow.
sword.
Zhuo Yifan turned back and stabbed the black dragon blade in his hand towards Cang Lang's lower abdomen, but was deflected by Cang Lang's backhand stab at his thigh. Zhuo Yifan was faster than Cang Lang.
The wolf was a little slower, and the sword came very fast, making Zhuo Yifan hide with a trace of embarrassment.[
Canglang didn't give Zhuo Yifan a chance to breathe, and continued to shake the software in his hand and stabbed at Zhuo Yifan's collarbone. Zhuo Yifan was a little unable to dodge, but he still resisted the sword with the black dragon blade in his hand.
The sharp point caused Canglang's software to tilt upward slightly, and then pierced Zhuo Yifan's temple.
Zhuo Yifan felt awe-inspiring in his heart, but he felt a sharp pain coming from his face. However, Canglang's soft sword missed the target, and the side of the swinging sword hit Zhuo Yifan's right face.
Damn, luckily it's just the blade, not the blade, otherwise it would be disfigured! Touching his burning cheek, Zhuo Yifan cursed in his heart. At this time, a red line appeared on Zhuo Yifan's right face
of imprints.
Seeing that the sword failed, Cang Lang was not angry but became even more excited. Withdrawing the soft sword, he held it horizontally and swept it towards Zhuo Yifan's neck. Because the distance was too close, Zhuo Yifan broke into a cold sweat.
If he was chopped hard now, his head would probably move. It was too late to dodge. The soft sword's range was too large, so he could only use his black dragon blade to resist again.
There was only a crisp "ding" sound, and Zhuo Yifan felt that his tiger's mouth was numb, and he almost let go of the black dragon blade. Then there was a pain in the back of his neck. It was the front part of the soft sword that slapped his own.
The back of the neck. Zhuo Yifan staggered immediately and almost fell to the ground.
After a slight pause, I felt a pain in my chest again, followed by a sweet sensation in my throat, a mouthful of blood spurted out, and my whole body flew out behind me and fell heavily to the ground.
"Haha! Not bad, the little guy is interesting!" Cang Lang stared at Zhuo Yifan with his cold eyes, and said sympathetically: "You are a good material for martial arts training. Not many people have such martial arts skills at such a young age.
See, I can’t bear to kill you now!”
Zhuo Yifan shook his dazed head, wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth with his hand, and stood up while suppressing the pain in his chest. Fortunately, the kick just now was rushed and not very powerful.
Otherwise, it would not be as simple as vomiting blood, but a few ribs might be broken.
