Just as Zhang Fengmo's knife stabbed into Zhuangze's back, his back began to tremble magically violently - the muscles on his back seemed to have left Zhuangze's body in an instant, and had his own life. Some places began to relax, some places began to tighten, some places raised, and some places sunken!

Zhuang Ze used the power of his body to mobilize the strength of his muscles. When the power of these muscles was combined, it turned into a arduous dam that could block a thousand-year-old flood. He wanted to hold the long blood-red knife that hit his body like a flood. This ghostly muscle change made Zhang Fengmo secretly startled.

His own blood-red sword will inevitably see blood when he comes out. He himself knows very well that ordinary defense devices, or those steel helmets and iron armor, as long as the blood-red sword appears, a blood-colored sword will be cut off under the power of the blood-red sword, but the monster in front of him actually wanted to use the body body to block it.

Zhang Fengmo's one-eyed eyes were bursting with vigorous evil spirits. He naturally felt the strange force coming from the hilt of the knife. Although he did not understand what the principle of this strange fighting method was, Zhang Fengmo was Zhang Fengmo. When he used the knife, there was no reason for blood. No matter what his strange skills and tricks were, I will give you a great effort to do a miracle!

Zhang Fengmo bit the tip of his tongue and spewed out a mouthful of blood. When the blood came into contact with the air, it turned into a blood mist, and fell on the blade of the blood-red sword. He ignored the strange feeling coming from the tip of the sword. He just shouted loudly, and a long blood-red roar scattered in the world, and a blood-colored breath gushed out. The blood-red sword seemed to be summoned from ancient times, buzzing, and the blood-red patterns on it grew wildly, like a vine, or some kind of ancient runes.

Behind Zhang Fengmo, a blood-red phantom of the God of Killing appeared faintly, and a terrifying and awe-inspiring coldness slowly spread from the soles of Zhang Fengmo's feet.

He held the blood-red sword in both hands and slashed vigorously. A blood-red breath gushed out, and with an unyielding momentum, he cut open the strange forces. With a karaoke, the blood-red sword dragged from Zhuang Ze's neck to his waist.

With a hissing, Zhuang Ze twitched all over. He took a deep breath in pain. The thin cloth clothes on his body broke. Under the cloth clothes, a very deep wound appeared in shock. Blood overflowed from the terrifying wound like a flood that had flowed across the embankment, flowing out along his back like a flood breaking the dam. Zhang Fengmo tried his best to break the dam and broke through Zhuang Ze's back with a desperate slash.

The blood-red blade brought out blood splattering everywhere. The blade dragged heavily on Zhuang Ze's back, like a stele, engraving words on extremely hard stones. In a very short time, many slight sounds of the blade and bone rubbing, and the muffled groan in Zhuang Ze's pupils. You can imagine how much pain Zhuang Ze suffered under the attack of this blood-red sword.

However, at this time, except for his tightly pursed lips, Zhuang Ze's face did not show as unbearable as his back. On the contrary, the expression on his face did not change at all, and it was extremely calm, as if the long knife in Zhang Fengmo's hand was cutting not his own body, but cutting the bark of the snow mountain, cutting the wet mud in the rain, and cutting the eaves of Tu Suta. Just as Zhang Fengmo was about to cut off his waist, Zhuang Ze suddenly turned around, letting the blood squirt out a blood fan in the air, and a mocking smile appeared in his mouth. Within a very short distance, he stretched out his hands and slapped Zhang Fengmo's face hard.

Wuzhi Zhuangze has a transcendent status in Zi Qilin. He should have stayed in the East like Yamamoto Kuichiro, enjoying the leisure of guiding the country. He just made a mistake that he shouldn't have made, so he was exiled to the waters of the South China Sea thousands of miles away and to the Yintian Island, which is a safe place.

However, if the crime he committed was replaced by an ordinary member of the Purple Qilin, it would not be an extermination of the nine clans forever. However, he was only exiled for a year, in just one year, and there was no punishment. Compared with this, Zhuang Ze's status in the Purple Qilin can be seen. Status represents power, but what stands behind him is strength.

Unknown that Huo Zhuangze can have his own place in the place where the Crouching Tiger and Hidden Dragon is the place where Zi Qilin is crouching, and his own strength will definitely not be very weak. Compared with Kuichiro Yamamoto, who has fought in Tokyo, it will only be more difficult and difficult to deal with. Therefore, Zhang Fengmo has no reservation at all when he takes advantage of the sneak attack. Even if he uses the long blood-red sword to slash the opponent's back, he does not want to relax his vigilance.

Zhang Fengmo narrowed his eyes and noticed with great sensitivity that although the long sword in his hand left a very tragic wound on Zhuang Ze's back, the sword's power was finally resolved by his strange tremor before. The physical defense was dissolved a lot. The blade cut through the flesh and blood, but it was not able to cut off the other party's bones, nor did it hurt the other party's internal organs, so it did not weaken his overall strength at all.

Since this is the case, Buzhihuo Zhuangze's counterattack was naturally as expected. When the two pairs of slightly thin and branch-like palms attacked his face, he had already reacted. The blood-red sword in his hand lifted up from the low altitude, slashed horizontally and flatly from the left, holding a majestic blood-colored aura. When a red light appeared around, the blood-red sword slashed at the opponent's body again.

The blade whistled through the air, and the sound was extremely crisp and extremely shrill. Buzhihuo Zhuangze took a step back and cleverly avoided Zhang Fengmo's somewhat reckless sword.

However, Zhang Fengmo did not have his own slash of air and stopped at all. He sprayed out a mouthful of blood again, and the fighting spirit in his eyes was even more intense. He pulled back the blood-red sword and without hesitation, the second knife slashed heavily. There was nothing unusual on Zhuang Ze's face. His expression became more and more quiet. He just slapped the two palms of Zhang Fengmo's face, and suddenly spread out in the air, stretching to both ends like a shepherd boy playing a flute. The thin but white palms looked a little inconsistent. Zhuang Ze, apart from these hands, did not take out any other weapons. It seemed that he was planning to use his flesh palm to take the blade that came to his eyes.

Zhang Fengmo was slightly shocked. Although his fighting style was extremely cruel, it did not mean that he was very stupid. On the contrary, he had been paying attention to the fighting style of Wuzhihuo Zhuangze. He did not believe that this powerful Wuzhihuo Zhuangze was an idiot. So since the other party dared to use his empty hands to catch his blood-red sword, his hands were naturally extraordinary. Could it be that he was practicing some secret skills? Or, under the sleeve robe, there was still something hidden?!...
Chapter completed!