Chapter 1972: One sword kills 100,000!

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Although Ye Fan's voice was silent, it contained absolute self-confidence, as if he was talking about the truth between heaven and earth, without any doubt or rebuttal.

"what?!"

Hearing this, Peng Wuji was taken aback first, the smug smile on his face instantly stiffened, and after a few seconds, it turned into unprecedented anger.

His handsome face became distorted, his forehead blue veins bulged out, the corners of his eyes were constantly twitching, and the golden pupils burst out with blade-like cold light.

"Boy, you... are you looking down on me?!"

Peng Wuji's voice was hoarse, his anger was extreme, and there seemed to be monstrous anger in his chest, almost making the blood boil.

Simply competing for combat power, he is not more powerful among the Yaozu Tianjiao!

But competing for speed, he has never been afraid of anyone in his life!

Even among the Peng clan, apart from the father, the other older generation of Peng clan powerhouses can't compare with him.

This kind of enchanting talent for speed also created his pride and conceit in his character.

He can tolerate other types of abuse, but he doesn't allow others to question his speed.

But now, Ye Fan's contempt has deeply touched his nerves.

"Stab!"

Peng Wuji's gaze was like lightning that tore through the sky, and he pierced Ye Fan, angrily said: "Smelly boy, with the tattered wooden sword in your hand, you want to beat me? It's a horrible thing!"

Although Peng Wuji was the son of the Demon King and had seen countless ancient treasures, he couldn't even touch the sacred weapon-level divine weapons. After all, there were not many pieces on the entire Tianshu star.

Moreover, the Wuxiang Sword is too inconspicuous. It has neither vomiting magical flowers nor carving any formation patterns. At first glance, it looks like an ordinary wooden sword.

Only a master refiner like Yue Linfeng can recognize the mystery of this sword.

In addition, the Qingjiao King, the ancestors of the people, and others did not realize its magic when they first saw the Wuxiangjian.

...

"Good good!"

Suddenly, Peng Wuji smiled in anger and said, "Boy, who gave you the courage? Then let's compare and see who is faster! You can shoot your sword, even if you stab a hundred swords, thousands of swords, Wan Jian can't touch a feather of me!"

Hearing this, Ye Fan flashed a playful look in his eyes, and said coldly:

"That's what you said, then I'll have a sword!"

"The first style of swordsmanship--"

"Zhantiandi!"

Ye Fan's voice resounded through the audience.

Swordsmanship?

Hearing this word, Peng Wuji thought about it in his mind. There was no similar magical power in the ruins, so he was not too flustered, and his eyes were fixed on Ye Fan's right hand holding the sword, without turning his eyes.

One second!

Two seconds!

Three seconds!

After a few seconds, Ye Fan still maintained the posture of holding the sword, rooting under his feet, motionless, and seemed to have no intention of launching an attack.

"Boy, why don't you have a sword yet, do you want to delay time in this way?" Peng Wuji yelled.

"Ha ha……"

Ye Fan smiled faintly, did not speak, but looked at Peng Wuji as if he was looking at an idiot.

Peng Wuji was about to swear, but he felt a sharp pain in his right wing.

Heartbreak!

Go deep into the bone!

The kind of severe pain that ordinary people can't imagine, it's like millions of small knives cutting your skin and piercing your bones...

"what happened?"

Peng Wuji's face changed wildly, and he was no longer arrogant, and a strong ominous premonition was born in his heart.

He turned his head subconsciously and saw a smooth crack appeared on his right wing.

At some point, his wings were cut off by Qi Gen!

"Wow..."

Like a fountain, Yin Hong blood splashed out frantically from the wound, smudging the blood lotus in the air, shocking.

"Ah!"

Almost at the same time, Peng Wuji's screams resounded across the sky and went straight up into the sky. The screams in his voice were terrifying and frightening.

[Baidu Novel www.tomtxt.com] "Pump!"

Because of the loss of his wings, Peng Wuji couldn't maintain his balance, and his body and right wing fell to the ground together, making a dull sound, like falling from the clouds into the mortal world, full of dust and embarrassed.

...

This sudden scene surpassed everyone's expectations.

The human masters on the head of the city were all dumbfounded and dumbfounded, their bodies stalemate in place as if they were petrified.

"Oh my God! Shouldn't I have an illusion? Who pinch me!"

"Peng Wuji, who is known for his speed, has not escaped Young Master Ye's sword and has his wings cut off?"

"What happened just now? I didn't see Young Master Ye making a sword!"

"In this world... is there anyone faster than the Peng Clan?"

For a time, the sound of exclamation resounded throughout the audience.

Everyone originally thought that this would be a wonderful duel, you chased me, there is a relationship.

After all, Peng Wuji had already shown amazing speed before, and he circled the city hundreds of times in a few breaths, and unknowingly cut the corners of the powerhouses.

In their view, even if Ye Fan could win the final victory, it would be a difficult and fierce battle, at least 300 rounds.

Who knows... This is actually a one-sided crush!

In fact, no one could see Ye Fan's movements clearly. Even the powerhouses at the level of Yue Linfeng, Qingjiao King, and ancestor of the sage did not know what happened.

Ye Fan's sword, inherited from "Zhantian and Pulling Swordsmanship", is the unique knowledge of a certain mysterious fairy.

Even Ye Fan, in order to cultivate this peerless supernatural power, has suffered, I don't know how much energy it took to develop it.

But the power of this sword-drawing technique is beyond doubt, and it has reached the ultimate fast.

With a sword, chasing light and power, time seems to stop for it, and the whole world freezes.

Peng Wuji's ultimate speed was a thousand times the speed of sound, but Ye Fan's sword just now was dozens of times faster.

"Puchuchuchuchi!!"

Just when everyone was shocked, there was another tearing sound in the sky.

The right wings of the 100,000 Peng clan warriors were also broken and cut off by the invisible sword energy. None of them was spared.

"Wow..."

The red blood fell from the sky like a pouring rain, instantly dyeing the earth red, as if turning this place into an Asura Purgatory.

"Ah!"

"My wings are broken!"

"It hurts... it hurts me..."

"Asshole! What happened?!"

One hundred thousand Peng clan fighters wailed together, desperate for life.

While screaming, they also fell to the ground one after another, as if they were knocked down by the gods.

In front of the city gate.

Ye Fan still stands proudly, holding the Wuxiang sword, his eyes are indifferent, and there is no mood swing on his face.

And at his feet, within a radius of 10,000 meters, blood flowed into a river, mourning everywhere.

One sword, but one hundred thousand!