Wuling Xianyuan

Chapter 8

The whole venue was in an uproar, many people sighed, and many people also laughed excitedly, and hurriedly went to exchange the bets, but turned a blind eye to the young monk who fell on the field.

Seeing that the monk was beheaded with a sword, the referee in charge of this competition curled his lips and signaled the servants around him to clean up the corpse before walking onto the competition field by himself.

"I declare that this swordsman won this competition. Is there anyone else coming up?"

After the referee finished speaking, the eyes of the middle-aged swordsman next to him opened slightly, and his light shot out, scanning the mixed crowd off the field, most of them were low-level monks, and their cultivation base did not exceed the period of nourishing Qi. Here The only rule is that people who have exceeded the nourishment period are not allowed to play, and the rest are some ordinary mortals.

Wherever their eyes passed, everyone turned their heads subconsciously. Although some monks were annoyed in their hearts, they could only snort coldly and not look at the eyes of the middle-aged swordsman.

Wang Chong watched this scene with great interest. He took off the cloak on top of his head, revealing a head of gray hair and an old face. Even his eyes became cloudy a lot, but they still burst out from time to time. .

This is naturally his disguise. If you appear here as a young man, even if you are ruthless, there will still be some people who don't open their eyes and come to make trouble.

In order to hide one's identity and avoid unnecessary troubles, it is still necessary to pretend.

When the eyes of the middle-aged swordsman shifted to Wang Chong, he was startled for a moment, then narrowed his eyes slightly, and then concentrated his eyes, showing an expression of interest as well.

The corners of Wang Chong's mouth were raised slightly, he smiled, his voice was old and hoarse, and he walked towards the competition venue.

The subtle actions of the middle-aged swordsman immediately attracted the attention of others. Following his gaze, everyone turned their heads curiously. When they saw Wang Chong's figure, they were startled. Everyone's reactions were different for a while. .

The people who were close to him immediately gave way, as if they were keeping a respectful distance, while the people in the distance kept looking around, shouting: "This is a good show, they are two ruthless characters."

And the eyes of more people are fanaticism mixed with awe. Most of the people who come here are outlaws, and most of their cultivation bases are in the cultivation stage. Almost all of them are casual cultivators, but there are also some mortals haunting them.

The underground imitation city can be said to be a mixture of dragons and snakes, and it is precisely because of this that it is despised by the big sect. In the world of cultivation, monks and mortals almost never communicate, but here is different. As long as you can pay the price, you can invite The moving monks do things for you, and they don't have the so-called dignity of a cultivator at all.

Wang Chong walked among the crowd, turning a blind eye to the fanatical gazes around him. Instead, he met the middle-aged swordsman's gaze, which was equally sharp. As soon as the two met, they had already started to confront each other, but this was only the first confrontation over momentum.

"Who is this person? Why does everyone seem to be familiar with him?" A middle-aged cultivator couldn't help but wondered after looking around for a long time but couldn't see any difference in Wang Chong.

These words immediately attracted disdainful eyes from the people next to him: "You haven't been here a few times, you don't even know about him?"

This person was very embarrassed when he heard the words, he laughed dryly twice, and said, "To tell you the truth, fellow daoist, this is the second time I came here on the recommendation of a friend. I really don't know about this person, so I hope fellow daoist can introduce me a little bit." .”

The speaker was stunned, nodded, and said in the tone of an old senior: "Most people who come here don't use their real names, and the rules here don't ask people's names. You must know that, although the old gentleman didn't Said his own name, but everyone called him 'Mr. Black', just because he was dressed in black every time he appeared."

"Then what's so great about him?" The man asked quickly.

"Hey, Mr. Black Clothes has played nearly a hundred games in total, won every game, and never lost once. You say you are good or not." Speaking of this, the person in charge of answering was also fascinated, and then looked at Wang Chong's figure , as if talking to himself.

"Mr. in black is a monk, but he is not inferior to martial arts masters in the world. His speed is extremely fast, and he can win with one move in many cases. In the beginning, Mr. in black never killed. Hehe, what is it here? Even if you have a lot of tricks, no one will be afraid of those who are soft-hearted and soft-hearted, and some people have started to make trouble by this, but that time Mr. Black was really angry..."

Speaking of this, the man seemed to have entered a state, his breathing became short of breath, his face turned pale, and said: "Some desperadoes got the idea of ​​Mr. Black and left with Mr. Black at night, but the next day their All the heads were hanging in the woods outside the city, and everyone's eyes were open, as if they had seen something terrible."

In the end, the commentator couldn't help but shudder, as if he had experienced it himself. Here, kindness cannot be respected by others, but decisiveness is the only way to be respected. In their eyes, Wang Chong is an old man with a weird personality. You never know whether he will kill his opponent or not.

Under everyone's frenzied eyes, Wang Chong walked onto the competition venue. The body of the beheaded man had been dragged away, and the venue was also splashed with water by the skillful actions of several servants. Obviously this kind of Things are common here.

The referee, who had always been lukewarm, looked a lot better when facing Wang Chong. He opened his eyes like dead fish and said, "So it's Mr. Black. You haven't been here for a while."

"Something happened, let's start."

The voice was still old and hoarse, and there was no meaning of reminiscing about the old days. The referee seemed to have become accustomed to Wang Chong's indifferent attitude and didn't think there was anything wrong with it.

After clearing his throat, his face returned to indifferent: "I think everyone here is not too unfamiliar, so I won't introduce too much, but I still want to reiterate the rules of this place."

Because life and death are up to fate in the competition, the rules of this place must be stated before each competition, and everyone has no objection to this.

"The cultivation of the contestants must not exceed the Qi nourishing period. No matter what their identities, both parties are not allowed to use talismans, pills, or release the body protection mask during the contest, otherwise they will all be regarded as losers."

Regarding such rules, the main consideration is that mortal warriors will participate in the competition. Sometimes monks in the nourishing period are similar to ordinary mortals, but if they use things like talismans to protect their bodies, even innate internal strength will not be hurt at all.

And the last one seems to be beneficial to the monks, but most of the people here are desperadoes, and the bet to win a game is enough to make these people work hard, so naturally they will not easily foul.

However, it was precisely because of the restrictions of the rules that the competition turned into a pure fight. There was rarely a stalemate. Fights were often very bloody, but they were more able to arouse the interest of these desperadoes, and the stakes were naturally high.

"These are the rules. Then, you two, let's start." Before the words finished, the referee had appeared outside the court at some point. No one could see how he did it. His specific strength can only be said to be terrifying. Anyone who dared to make trouble died in his hands.

Wang Chong didn't move, but the mana in his body had already started to circulate quietly, and his cloudy eyes shot out a sharp light at this time, and the opponent's every move could not escape his eyes.

The middle-aged swordsman also looked at Wang Chong carefully. His intuition from years of traveling in the rivers and lakes told him that the old man standing in front of him was very different from the monk he had fought with before, and his whole body exuded a dangerous aura.

This is an intuition cultivated by fighting in the rivers and lakes for many years. Almost everyone who has been licking blood on the edge of a knife has this intuition, and it is often very effective, and it will save their lives at critical moments.

The middle-aged sword stood proudly on the field, holding the sword in one hand and putting the other behind his back, his face was dignified, his eyes shone with a strange light, his clothes were even more windless, and he was rattled by the true energy.

As a swordsman, no matter how powerful the opponent is, he will not back down. The sword is always against the enemy, and when the sword strikes, blood must be drunk!

"What a strong aura. Is this a strong man with innate inner strength? It's really extraordinary. Just standing in front of him, there is an urge to surrender. I didn't expect that a mortal can have such an aura." Wang Chong was shocked, but soon came back to his senses, sneered, and the spirit pressure on the monk burst out suddenly, and his momentum was not lost to the opponent.

At the moment when Wang Chong erupted with an aura that was completely different from that of a warrior, the middle-aged swordsman moved, and his inner strength penetrated the body of the sword. With a "buzz", before the sound of the sword's cry, the two figures had already crossed each other .

The long sword in the warrior's hand hummed unceasingly due to the shock of true energy, and the tip of the sword was flickering, and even a mortal weapon seemed to have spirituality.

And at some point in Wang Chong's hand, there was an extra dagger, which exuded weak fluctuations in spiritual power, and even strands of spiritual energy lingered on its surface.

This short confrontation was nothing more than a greeting between the two and a test of each other.

"You are different from them. You are very strong. Have you practiced body training?" The middle-aged swordsman turned his back to Wang Chong and said softly.

"I didn't expect you to know the body training technique. It seems that you must have known it before. To be honest, I am a little surprised that a warrior can reach this level, but standing here, in the words of you Jianghu people, you can't help it Since', you and I don't have to show mercy."

With his back to the middle-aged swordsman, Wang Chong tried to make his voice calmer to conceal the shock in his heart. At the same time, he also tried his best to restrain his arm holding the dagger. The force made his arms numb.

"What a powerful force, but it should not be the strength of his physical body. It is also mixed with the inner strength generated by the shock of true energy. It is really terrifying. If I hadn't taken precautions in advance, I am afraid that the energy just now would have escaped into my body , Is that the internal energy cultivated by warriors?"

Wang Chong thought so, a simple collision, in which there is a hidden murderous intent, one carelessness may capsize the gutter and lose one's life, and the contest has just begun.

(End of this chapter)