"Since you have already stepped onto the mountain gate before the three-tone drum sounds, I think those incompetent disciples outside the gate are not your opponents. They can only enter the gate."
Usually during sect competitions, the Taoist would just stand in front of the Sword King Temple, waiting for the leader of the competition to win, and then take him into the Sword King Temple. During this period, he didn't say a word, just watched quietly, but this time he spoke for the first time, The words were quite gratifying.
The old man in front of the drum looked slightly moved.
Not only the old man's expression moved slightly, but also the face of the man in gray who was usually very tired was as gloomy as water, not to mention the fat man in luxurious clothes also had a frown on his face.
The young man covered in dust did not show any gratitude. He just turned around and took the sword from the waist of the dozens or twenty people who had collapsed on the ground and suffered serious injuries. He hugged him into a bundle and walked into the mountain gate with only his waist on his back. Still very hunchbacked.
The Jianwang Mountain sect's competition is unusual: there are four to five hundred disciples in Jianwang Mountain. The top fifty from the previous session will be designated as the top class, the next fifty will be designated as the middle class, and the next fifty will be ranked as the middle class. The one who wins the most games will be selected as the top 50, and then the competition will be held. The one who wins more games will be the winner. Can be called the leader.
However, in addition to this rule, there is still a second way, which is to ask for a tassel on your own, hold the ring in front of the Sword King Temple, and fight twenty times. If you can defeat twenty disciples and remain undefeated, you can save the money. Get rid of the tedious chores of the previous competition and win the first prize immediately.
However, no one in Sword King Mountain has dared to do such an arrogant act. Even the man in gray, who is one of the top armors, only dared to say that he would defend a big ring in the coming year when he was joking with the old housekeeper. , save the useless effort and win the championship alone. But only those who practice martial arts know that it is really difficult to hold on to twenty fellow disciples in this big ring, just like fishing for the moon in the sea, and it is probably even more difficult than trying to fly away from the sky.
A swordsman needs a breath to draw his sword, and the realm of the disciples in Sword King Mountain is at most the realm of the man in gray. Moreover, only swordsmanship is considered in the competition, and victory cannot be won by immortal methods. A challenge is a series of attacks from the same sect without any time to rest. I am afraid that there will be no one in the Sword King Mountain who has resisted twenty strong hands at the peak of their energy and spirit.
"After the three drums are completed, is there anyone who is guarding the drums among the disciples of Sword King Mountain?" The old man stood at the steps of the Sword King Temple and spoke loudly.
The man in gray gently touched the scabbard, his eyes flashing.
It wasn't just the man, many of the hundreds of disciples in the upper and lower classes had their expressions change, and they all gently held the swords around their waists.
No one noticed that among the Bingmo disciples, a dirty-faced young man walked in. He grinned, then pulled out a long sword from his waist, grinned, and gently licked Mingming Blade, then spat disdainfully.
"Rubber stuff."
The young man did not put away his sword, but took two steps, put the sword blade against the back of someone's neck, and said with a evil smile, "You, keep the sword."
His words were harsh and scornful, and his murderous intent was cold.
The fat man couldn't help but shuddered. When he turned around, he saw the young man looking at his waist. He was even more horrified. It was clear that his hand had been holding the hilt of the sword for a long time, but he still couldn't get out.
It's like encountering a tiger and leopard leaping into a stream while walking in the mountains, or encountering a giant python while a horse is drinking in a secluded spring. The two groups are fighting, but they want to go first.
It's hard to have a ruthless heart.
As the eldest son of a high-ranking Zihao family, Xin Yuchen and his father had seen many battlefield generals with extremely strong physical strength. The latter could wield a gun weighing 100 kilograms, sit firmly on a horse, twist the gun and smash the wooden target into pieces, but he had never Seeing such a fierce and stubborn person in front of him, he even felt that in the eyes of that young man, he was just a piece of fat meat weighing one to two hundred pounds. If he was not careful, he would have to ask the young man to bite off a piece of it.
Compared to the disciples of Sword King Mountain who were neatly dressed and had elegant swords on their waists, this young man with a hunched back looked more like a jackal in the mountain.
Xin Yuchen still struck out with his sword.
However, the young man twisted his waist and dodged it. The sword light in his palm moved again and went straight to the fat man's throat.
"Don't mess up, just lend me a favor." The young man bared his teeth and smiled.
Immediately, the five hundred disciples in Sword King Mountain saw a hunchbacked young man in ragged clothes, carrying more than twenty unsheathed swords, staggering up to the old steward, and said softly, "No one is going to challenge. I'll give it a try."
The Taoist priest in front of the Sword King Temple was smiling broadly.
In less than five sticks of incense, fifteen or six of the disciples of Generation A were left behind by the young man on the ring. They were all mangled with blood and flesh, and their defeat was horrific. The hunchbacked young man won again and again, even the original hunchback, Unconsciously, he slowly straightened up, changing the sword in his palm again and again, and finally picked up Xin Yuchen's long sword with gold and silver tassels, licking the blade with his tongue, smiling ferociously.
The sword worn by Zihao's eldest son was indeed not of extraordinary quality. When it fell into the young man's hand, he felt that the sword tasted like the blood of the dead tiger in the forest, fishy, sweet and refreshing.
The young man is also a Zihao person, but he was abandoned when he was young and left in the mountains and forests, where he was fed by a lost female wolf for several years. He drank from mountain springs and ate rabbits and deer. It was not until recent years that he was rescued. He speaks human words, but still behaves like a mountain animal. I'm afraid it will be difficult to change after a while.
Back then, the female wolf was walking alone and was attacked by a tiger. The young man hiding in the canopy of the tree just watched the tiger chewing the wolf's body without making any fixed movements. It wasn't until the tiger took a nap a few days later that the boy jumped down from the tree canopy and pierced the tiger's throat with a sharpened hard stone. After a long struggle, he dragged the giant tiger to death.
The young man cut off the tiger's head and threw it in front of the female wolf's body, silently.
This wild young man has extremely sensitive senses, but for several days, he has not noticed that a Taoist carrying a tree branch has been following behind him.
In the Sword King Mountain, a man in gray stepped into the ring with a complicated face.
If this young man was short-sighted, he would never let go of his arrogance and would definitely be the first to take the stage. However, more than a dozen top soldiers were defeated one after another. The man was so arrogant and arrogant that he had to wait for a while.
The swordsmanship of the hunchbacked young man is extremely weird. The angle of the sword is like an animal probing its claws. Although it is not consistent with the school, it is like an antelope hanging its horns. It is completely natural. This is why the first disciples on Sword King Mountain have been defeated repeatedly, and no one can have the upper hand. .
"Your sword is not bad either." The young man stared at the man in gray, but his words were extremely joyful.
The man smiled and said, "If you lose, I'll give it to you."
Fifty years later, a simple long sword appeared in the young man's hand. He licked the bone-deep wound on his right arm, and his smile became more ferocious.
As for the man in gray, his left arm was completely severed, and it was difficult for the immortal to save him, but his expression remained as usual. He left a few words and slowly returned to his room.
"Only today will Yuan know what it means to be extremely talented."
Sword King Mountain was completely silent.
