"Baga!"

Jiro Okawa's eyes were almost spitting out of fire, staring at Tang Ming, with crazy murderous intent flashing in his eyes.

"It's not okay to admit defeat."

"I have already said at the beginning that you must kneel down and kowtow, shouting three times that you are an Eastern devil. If you don't shout, I will hit you until you shout."

Tang Ming spoke lightly, without saying a slightest emotion in a cold tone.

"Chinese boy, how about we change the rules?"

Jiro Okawa licked his scarlet tongue and grinned: "For this last game, we can each choose a weapon."

"Tang Ming, their genre is good at swordsmanship, so don't be fooled by them."

Li Shishi quickly reminded her.

"Need not."

Tang Ming shook his head, looked at the wall clock hanging on the wall and frowned, "Speed, I don't have time to talk to you here. Don't say that you put weapons at home, you have to go home to get them."

"Of course not. For samurai, samurai swords are always carried with you."

A killing intent burst out in Okawa Jiro's eyes. He came to the area where he placed his luggage and took out a slender sandalwood box.

Open the box.

There is a slender and exquisite samurai sword inside, wrapped in golden brocade.

Jiro Okawa put down the box, stroked the samurai scabbard with both hands, and then suddenly drew his sword.

"Zheng--!"

A sound of swords rippled.

Jiro Okawa held the hilt of the sword in both hands and stood in front of him. His aura suddenly became sharp and sharp, and his aura was much more than before.

He stepped into the octagonal cage and asked, "Where is your weapon?"

"One hand is enough to deal with you."

Tang Ming said lightly.

"It's ridiculous. I hope you don't regret it later. No, you have no chance to regret it."

Jiro Okawa narrowed his eyes slightly and slowly placed the erected samurai sword in front of him.

The sword body is as thin as paper. When the blade appears in a straight line with the corners of Okawa Jiro's eyes, a strange aura spreads out.

The murderous intent boiled instantly.

And it blends perfectly with the sword blade.

"Beichen's sword flows!"

"Damn it, he is the swordsman of Yidaoliu, Beicheng!"

Li Shishi's expression changed drastically and she spoke anxiously: "Tang Ming, this is the ultimate skill of Beichen's sword flow. Be careful of the trajectory of his sword. This genre is good at combining illusion and sword skills, killing people invisibly."

"Haha, I'm just reminding him now, it's too late."

Jiro Okawa grinned and his arms suddenly shook. The hilt of the sword in his hand trembled rapidly and turned into several sword lights, real and fake.

Swish! A sword was slashed out, and three sword lights came from different directions.

Even Jiro Okawa's figure was a little ethereal and could not see clearly. He sometimes left and right, but instantly spanned five meters, which was extremely strange.

A sword flow in the north city.

The best among the Yingzhou sword art school is said to have crossed the sea and came to the Tang Dynasty in China to learn from his master. He himself was also gifted and slightly transformed the Tang Dynasty's Modao and sword art to create the sword art school that suits him the most.

The main one is to slash the sword on the battlefield, and it is fierce and domineering. Then it integrates into pure Chinese swordsmanship, which is ethereal and unreal. Finally, combined with the strange tricks, the lethality is actually strong. Often, it is slashed out with one sword, and the enemy's head and head are different before they can react.

The sword flow of the North City also passed down in Yingzhou since then.

After hundreds or thousands of years of improvement, Beichen Yidao Liu has a little bit of his own characteristics, and then he does not admit his ancestors' contributions, nor does he believe that his ancestors learned swordsmanship from China and insists that it is the supreme swordsmanship in Japan.

"die!"

Jiro Ogawa shouted loudly, and suddenly, four or five echoes rippled out. Not only could they not determine the direction based on the sound, but they could also interfere.

Whoosh-! The cold light shone, and rushed out like a poisonous snake at a tricky angle, making it a little harder in Tang Ming's throat.

Beichen Yishu, as the name suggests, has only one killer move, which emphasizes the perfect fusion of speed, power, sword intent.

Take out the knife and close it.

Swish! Jiro Okawa suddenly took a few steps, turned his back to Tang Ming, held the hilt of the sword with both hands and threw a beautiful sword flower, his movements were chic and cold.

“Too weak.”

"Maybe I'm no match for brute force fighting, but I'm far behind you in China than swordsmanship."

Jiro Okawa looked sarcastic.

He had just personally used Beichen's sword and pointed the tip of the sword at Tang Ming's throat, which could determine that the person behind him would definitely die.

A teasing voice suddenly sounded: "You are also called swordsmanship?"

What! The smile on Okawa Jiro's face froze, and he turned his head and looked at Tang Ming.

His face was full of incredibleness: "Impossible, you, you've just gotten into the sword."

His previous slash was perfect, and the final killing move really fell on Tang Ming's throat. How could he be safe and sound?

"The fusion of swordsmanship, swordsmanship, and illusion techniques is a good idea. Unfortunately, the comprehension is too poor, and the eyes are high and the skills are low, so they finally merge into a four-dimensional character."

Tang Ming had a sarcasm at the corner of his mouth: "Can this kind of garbage sword technique form a school in your Japan?"

As he said that, he slowly raised his right hand.

Two fingers are put together to present a sword finger.

"Let you see what is the real Chinese swordsmanship."

Tang Ming smiled lightly and said, as soon as he finished speaking, he pointed his sword in front of him, which was the most basic sword technique to stab directly.

He pinched his sword fingers and moved forward slowly, and seemed to be ineffective.

"What kind of garbage thing, I want to cut off your hand."

Jiro Okawa's eyes were full of ferociousness, holding the sword in both hands and slashing them hard.

Sword of steel.

Meet two fingers.

There is a natural difference here. Li Shishi was extremely anxious and was about to remind Tang Ming that when he retreated, a sudden change occurred.

"Buzz——" A sword sound suddenly rippled, and a thick and pure sword intent suddenly burst out between Tang Ming's two fingers.

The way is simple.

The same is true for sword intent. A true sword genius never sticks to what a weapon is. He has a sword in his heart. Picking flowers and flying leaves can be used as a sword, and all things in the world can also be used as a sword.

"break!"

Tang Ming spitted a word, his fingers gathered together and gently stroked towards the front.

Rumble! Endless sword intent gushed out, and with a "clang" sound, the warrior sword made of Bailian refined steel broke into pieces, and the invisible sword intent moved forward and attacked with a bang.

Swish, swish, swish! Seven or eight sword intents surrounded Okawa Jiro.

Clothes were flying, mixed with blood.

"Puff--" Jiro Ogawa completely flew for more than ten meters, smashed out the octagonal cage, hit the wall hard and then slid down.

He was covered with sword scars and wounds.

The clothes were cut into strands, as embarrassed as a beggar.

"You..." Jiro Okawa looked at Tang Ming with fear. Not only him, but also Li Shishi and others behind him were also confused.

With two fingers, you can cut the fragments of the refined steel, and then you will not lose all your strength, and cut sword scars on Jiro Okawa's body.

If it weren't for seeing it with your own eyes, no one would believe it.
Chapter completed!