"Ga!"
Everyone from the Feng family was stunned.
So were the people from the other sects.
The people from Fiend Jade Mountain were still in a daze.
The entire place was silent!
Something was wrong!
Feng Wuji jumped up and down, dancing and chirping, displaying his martial skills to the fullest.
Everyone wanted to drink tea, eat melon seeds, and watch a great battle.
But the battle had just begun and it was already over.
Except for those Eight-star Venerables, no one else could tell which one was Feng Wuji's real body.
But he was sent flying by Zhang Xing's kick.
In other words … Feng Wuji was just a joke in Zhang Xing's eyes.
A moment later, two people from the Feng family flew out and carried Feng Wuji back.
After a careful examination, they found that he was only unconscious and his life was not in danger.
Only then did everyone's expression soften.
When Feng Wuji woke up, he was still confused.
"How many times have I told you not to hesitate when you attack? You just won't listen."
"Now you know how fatal your weakness is."
The Feng family's Ancestral Patriarch said coldly.
"Ancestral Patriarch, you're right. I'll remember it in my heart and change in the future!"
Feng Wuji was ashamed.
At this time, he had already regained consciousness and knew that he had been knocked out by Zhang Xing.
Just as he was about to succeed, he suddenly felt a sharp pain in his stomach. Then, he fainted without knowing why.
Who else could it be but Zhang Xing?
"Si Nantian would like to learn from Honorary Master Zhang!"
Just as Feng Wuji was regretting his carelessness, a voice spread.
"He's the strongest disciple of the third generation of Dharan City."
Feng Wuji's eyes turned cold.
There were a few people in his generation that he didn't want to offend.
Feng Bubai could only be ranked sixth.
Si Nantian could be ranked fourth.
Although he was 92 years old, he still had a fiery temper.
He really didn't care about his life when he fought with others!
If it was a life-and-death battle, others could still fight with him.
But now, it was just a competition, and they didn't overdo it.
More or less, it would cause others to be a little hesitant.
But Si Nantian didn't care. He would rather lose an arm or a leg to smash you to the ground.
Not long ago, in the Southern Continent's once-in-a-decade Martial Arts Tournament.
Si Nantian was shot by the other party, and his body was pierced through.
However, his attacks did not slow down. He continued to use this method to approach his opponent and pluck his head off.
After winning, he did not pull out his spear. He just walked back to his camp with a cruel smile on his face.
It could be seen how ruthless he was to himself.
If Zhang Xing were to fight with him, it would not be so easy.
Zhang Xing raised his hand slightly, indicating that Si Nantian could start.
Now that he was someone with status, he naturally had to act like a senior big shot.
But such an action made Si Nantian feel very awkward.
This was a move that I often used. As long as those 8-star bigwigs didn't make a move, no matter where I went, I would let others make the first move.
"You little brat, what are you pretending for?!"
Snorting coldly in his heart, he didn't waste any more words with Zhang Xing and executed his movement technique to attack.
"Eight Forms of Intent!"
His heart moved at will, illusory and ethereal.
Si Nantian used his most powerful combat skill as soon as he came up.
Although the name was eight forms, it was ever-changing and endless.
That was to say, his combat skill had no fixed moves. It was all based on the situation on the battlefield.
He feinted to grab Zhang Xing's throat, waiting for Zhang Xing to change his move.
But Zhang Xing didn't pay attention to him at all. He just looked at the grab coldly.