stonecrandall Chapter 122 Flaming Blade, Not Bad! Zhang Jia Sleeps
Chapter 122 Flaming Blade, Not Bad! Zhang Jia Sleeps
Chapter 122 Flaming Blade, Not Bad! Time to Go Home and Sleep.
"I will have no regrets, even if it means death!"
As Nyingma uttered his command, a terrifying force erupted from his withered body. His hunched back straightened inch by inch, accompanied by cracking sounds like popping beans from his bones. His loose skin tightened, and his bulging muscles created an enviable curve. Only his left hand, which held the prayer flag, remained withered and unchanged.
Therefore, Nyingma was a burly man who was 1.8 meters tall, but he had a thin, long arm like a dried corpse, which looked extremely strange.
Because his loose skin had been tightened, Ningma looked much younger, but his deep-set eyes still held no luster. He knew he was like an ant trying to shake a tree, or a mantis trying to stop a chariot, so he had none of the arrogance and confidence that came with mastering power. All he had was the same calm as before: "This old monk is dull-witted, so for many years I have only practiced the Dragon Elephant Prajna Skill and the temple's unique Flame Blade. Please don't blame this old monk for his limited methods."
As Ningma spoke, true energy rose from his intact right arm. He raised his palm as a knife, and a thin layer of flame seemed to adhere to it, condensing into a knife energy about an inch long. It seemed that it would dissipate with a gust of wind, but in fact, this wisp of knife energy was so tenacious that it almost solidified and did not dissipate, like seaweed swaying in the night wind.
Wei Wu has a good talent for martial arts. Whether it is the Dragon Elephant Prajna Skill or the Flaming Blade, it seems to have no threshold in front of him. However, if he wants to reach the level of the Nyingma monk, he can forget about it without several years of hard training.
Using his reputation points on the Flame Blade would be too wasteful, so he simply abandoned the idea of fighting fire with fire and instead, with a flick of his finger, drew the sword from the waist of a burly man behind Mongke into his hand.
"Flame Blade, is it? I have a move called the Bai Family Divine Blade here. If you can catch it, I won't bother Wanyan Xun for the next three days."
"Considering your loyalty, if you can't handle it, I'll give Wanyan Xun one day before we storm the capital. What do you say?"
"Please have mercy, benefactor!"
Ningma gave a polite reply, and then his withered, lifeless left hand hurled the prayer flag with such force that it made a whooshing sound.
In the blink of an eye, Wei Wu felt a violent wind pressure rushing towards him. He blocked it with his bare hand, and a sound of metal clashing rang out. A tremendous force flowed from his palm to his arm, but he dissipated the force by the trembling of his muscles.
It was none other than the Iron Chewing Technique!
Although he wasn't injured, he couldn't help but praise, "What strength! What a fine set of Dragon Elephant Prajna Kung Fu, what a brilliant move of Shakyamuni Throwing the Elephant!"
Despite the praise, Wei Wu didn't forget to take action. He raised his long sword, channeling his abundant true energy into it. The surroundings suddenly darkened, with only the blade gleaming white, making the surroundings appear even whiter.
The visual illusion did not cause Ningma any ripples. He had already regarded himself as a dead man before this battle, and a dead man would not react to the outside world.
Therefore, Ningma was neither sad nor happy. Regardless of what moves Wei Wu used, he focused solely on the flaming blade in his right hand. He used brute force to step within five steps of Wei Wu. His calm face suddenly wrinkled, and he seemed to shrink into a dried-up corpse. All the extracted true energy surged into the flaming blade in his right hand!
The thick arm suddenly withered like the left hand, only the palm remained as sharp as a knife, and the flame blade on it immediately broke through from about an inch to three inches, with visible flames flowing on it.
"cut!"
Ningma roared, his right hand was severed at the wrist, and a blade-shaped flame wrapped around his palm and flew out, aiming straight for Wei Wu's neck. However, after the roar, he collapsed to the ground, his bones and skin shattered into dust.
At that moment, Wei Wu's raised sword fell.
Everyone felt their surroundings darken, then a ray of light shone through, and in an instant, the blade's gleam, as bright as day, filled their vision, piercing their eyes as if they were shattering. Countless bloodstains appeared instantly, and tears welled up in their eyes.
The archers even felt as if they had truly gone blind, and they covered their eyes and fell to the ground, rolling around in agony.
Such a dazzling strike landed on the flaming blade, causing a brief stalemate before easily slicing through the three-inch flame as if cutting butter.
However, after the flames were broken, his right hand became extremely withered. Wei Wu knocked it with the back of his sword, and it fell next to Ningma's corpse.
"Since I can't leave you with a whole corpse, I'll leave you with one hand. Your desperate strike was spot on. Even if Itto came, he wouldn't have an easy time defeating you with that strike."
After making his comments, Wei Wu dropped the sword in his hand. The sword, which contained the "Bai Family Divine Sword" and Wei Wu's true energy, was covered with cracks like porcelain and shattered into pieces as soon as it hit the ground.
The master swordsman, who had just been red-eyed, now truly shed tears—for a martial artist, a weapon is no less important than their wife.
Wei Wu's behavior was like taking away his wife in front of him, not only forcibly standing up and kicking her, but also completely ruining her!
Who could stand that?
But let him seek justice from Wei Wu—
The man sniffed twice and decided to find himself a new wife.
You can find another wife if you lose her, but if you lose yourself, you're really gone!
After killing Ningma, Wei Wu said to the Tibetan monks behind him, "Go back and tell Wanyan Xun that I will storm into his palace through the main gate early the day after tomorrow, so that he can prepare in advance."
Don't even think about running away. If the army is protecting him, he might still have a chance of survival. Tell him not to make a mistake.
Get out of here.
The twelve Tibetan monks, feeling as if they had been granted a pardon, carefully collected Nyingma's ashes and then ran towards the palace without looking back, disappearing from sight.
Mongke stepped forward, his face showing some worry: "With Mr. Wei's reminder, I'm afraid Wanyan Xun will go mad and gather all the troops in the city in the palace, probably no less than 30,000 men—if they are also armored, I'm afraid even the Five Great Warriors of the Central Plains will be worn down and killed in there."
If a martial arts master were to fight a regular army, the martial arts master would definitely be the one to die!
Even if their true energy can break through armor, can it break through one piece of armor, a hundred pieces, a thousand pieces, or even ten thousand pieces?
Absolutely impossible!
Therefore, in the worldviews of low-level or even mid-level martial arts, the imperial court's power is the strongest, and no one can easily ignore the armored army.
Wei Wu nodded and said, "I know."
But he didn't seem to care, waving his hand and saying, "I know there are more than just this many people here. Keep an eye on things and don't let that guy really get away."
Seeing his unwavering confidence, Mongke couldn't help but tremble: "Just how strong is this man?"
The thought was fleeting; he immediately agreed to Wei Wu's instructions. Seeing that Wei Wu had no further orders, Mongke cautiously asked, "Shall I go and arrange for someone to keep an eye on Wanyan Xun?"
"Okay, go ahead," Wei Wu stretched and walked towards the south city. "I've been busy all night, I should go back and get some sleep."
I just received news of Guo Jing, so perhaps—
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