At this time, a cloud covered the sun, the sky was no longer bright, and a gust of wind blew up from the plains, making the hot summer in July look a bit desolate in late autumn.
After Murong Fu finished speaking, the sarcasm on his face became more intense, and he squinted at the sword god in front of him with a playful look, like an evil cat teasing a mouse that had just emerged from the nest.
Zhuo Bufan was stunned for a moment, and then became furious: "You are extremely arrogant. Just now you were lucky enough to escape my sword, so I showed mercy. Okay! If you can really remain motionless and accept my hundred moves, Zhuo Bufan swears to never use the sword again."
Enter the world!"
Murong Fu curled his lips disdainfully: This old boy is really cunning. He said he would cut off his meridians if he lost, but when it came to his mouth, he would never use the sword. It looked similar, but in fact the difference was huge. He would lose by then.
If he gives up and leaves, who knows whether he will use a sword in the future?
But anyway, Murong Fu didn't intend to let him lose. The point was to conquer, so he didn't care about this word game and let him go.
Murong Fu said: "Then let's wait and see!"
Zhuo Bufan secretly used his true energy, and with one move, a half-foot-long green light appeared on the sword body, like a living thing. This move was the result of twenty years of painstaking study after he received the inheritance of the Sword Scripture from his predecessors. It can be said that it is
He has learned all his life.
He did not pick the small cauldron in Murong Fu's hand with this sword, but directly stabbed Murong Fu's chest, attacking the enemy and saving him. In his opinion, Murong Fu's easy avoidance of his sword earlier must have been calculated and unintentional.
, can't be counted. However, Murong Fu was able to stand still and avoid it, which shows that he still has real talent and learning.
He didn't expect that his sword could really stab the opponent to death, but he was confident that the opponent would have to dodge and move around, which would take a lot of effort, to dodge this sword that embodies what he had learned all his life. In this way, according to the bet,
Murong Fu naturally lost.
Murong Fu watched calmly as the sword light in front of him expanded rapidly. When the sword was less than a foot away from his heart, he gently moved the small cauldron with his right hand and used a force of four or two to catch the long sword.
Although this sacred wooden king tripod is magical, it is made of wood after all. How can it be worthy of this three-foot long sword?
But the tip of the sword seemed to be pinched by an invisible big hand. The moment it came into contact with the small tripod, it bent upwards in a strange arc, and the half-foot-long sword glow that was originally like a living thing also suddenly appeared.
The child was knocked away and disappeared into the smoke and dust, as if it had never existed.
Then Murong Fu's hand was like lightning. Before Zhuo Bufan could see clearly what the opponent was doing, a burst of magic was transmitted from the tip of the sword to his wrist. Zhuo Bufan only felt his wrist go numb, as if he had been stung by a scorpion, and then he felt that he was holding the sword.
The hand lost its strength.
He secretly said "Oops" in his heart, and just as he was about to forcefully raise his energy and regain control of the sword, that force, with its unexhausted momentum, directly took the sword away.
When he reacted and saw clearly, Murong Fu held the small green cauldron in his right hand and held the tip of Zhuo Bufan's long sword between two fingers of his left hand. He was looking at him calmly, as if he had just wiped his hands.
, just took out a pair of chopsticks to pick up vegetables.
The dark clouds dispersed and the sun shone on the earth again, but Zhuo Bufan's mood suddenly fell from a sunny day in July to a cold winter, bone-chilling.
Cold sweat rolled down Zhuo Bufan's forehead. At this moment, he seemed to have a big invisible hand holding his neck. He tried several times but could not make a sound.
After a while, he finally regained some control over his body.
Swallowing a mouthful of saliva to moisten his dry throat, Zhuo Bufan said: "Mr. Murong has great martial arts skills. Zhuo Bufan, using the light of a firefly, wants to compete with the bright moon. It's ridiculous to think that a small fly can shake a big tree."
If Murong Fu himself were not here, he would really want to cry loudly now.
Twenty years! Twenty years of hard work, but I can't even make a move in front of this young man in front of me!
Hahaha.
Zhuo Bufan now just feels like a clumsy juggler who has been seen through the tricks he has worked hard for many years in just a few seconds.
The audience who were watching eagerly one moment dispersed in a hurry the next moment, leaving behind a mess on the ground and myself wandering in the same place.
Sword God?
Ridiculous!
Zhuo Bufan slowly closed his eyes, and two lines of clear tears silently fell from the corners of his eyes. At this moment, he was completely desperate.
He is already over fifty years old. Even if he practices for another thirty years, what can he do? Not to mention seeking revenge from Tong Lao, he will not be able to escape even from Murong Fu.
There is nothing greater to mourn than to die.
Murong Fu ignored him and looked at the long sword he had just snatched. He smiled and said: "It is a rare and good sword, but the master's martial arts is really not good enough."
Zhuo Bufan was furious: "Murong Fu, a scholar can be killed but not humiliated. I, Zhuo Bufan, am not as good as others today, so I just died in your hands. But if you humiliate me like this, I... I can't even be a ghost."
I’ll let you go.”
He originally wanted to say that he would fight to the death with the other party. But when he thought of the other party's martial arts, he would definitely die, and the other party might not even scratch his skin, and he felt desperate. When the words came to his mouth, it became
A fearless threat.
Murong Fu raised his eyelids and said with a smile, "Isn't it?"
As he spoke, he turned his hand and held a sword flower in the air with the long sword. It looked as light and graceful as a flying swallow returning to its nest. Then, with a move, the dragon lifted up the phoenix and handed it out. On the sword body, there was a loud roar of dragons, and an extraordinary movement.
The half-foot sword glow that was danced before had more than doubled in length, and the light covered most of the sword body.
Then Murong Fu held a cauldron in one hand and danced a sword in the other.
Above the sword body, the three-foot-long sword glow is sometimes like holding a heart in a hand, very delicate and delicate. Sometimes it is like a dragon escaping from the gate, and the wind and rain are blowing.
Cutting, chopping, splitting, stabbing, and picking, all the basic movements of swordsmanship were demonstrated one by one in Murong Fu's hands. The apparently ordinary movements at this moment perfectly combined the lightness of swordsmanship with the simplicity of swordsmanship.
.
With Murong Fu as the center, a cold wind blew up. Zhuo Bufan shivered unconsciously, as if the temperature in the wilderness suddenly dropped several degrees, and he subconsciously moved a little further away from him.
After using up a set of sword techniques, Murong Fu casually threw the long sword to the ground. The sword blade was deeply inserted into a large bluestone. The pressure generated by the sword force was dissipated, and the nearby bushes that were half a man tall broke.
.
Murong Fu smiled and said: "What? Does this count as humiliating you?"
Zhuo Bufan shouted, feeling ashamed and angry. He angrily pulled out his long sword, swung the sword horizontally, and wiped it from his neck. He thought: That's it. Zhuo Bufan's skills are not as good as others. Since revenge is hopeless in this life, he can just live in this world.
It's also useless.
Just when the sword blade was about to touch the neck, a burst of sword energy hit the long sword in his hand, and the fine iron long sword was instantly broken into two pieces.
Zhuo Bufan's face turned pale: "Master Murong, don't you even have the dignity to commit suicide?"