Wu Ying let the thunder record belt barrier, his claws suddenly clenched, and the black mist surged rapidly, like a fierce beast, and slammed into the golden spear.

Boom Boom!

The spear broke inch by inch and dissipated.

Wu Ying's figure rushed forward suddenly, a welcome flashed in the ring, and her claws carried the energy of the black mist, and suddenly slashed forward.

Zhao Lingping's eyes widened, not angry, and shouted: "Immortal stroke!" ”

He slapped out a palm, and the qi around his body surged, only to see the wind surging in front of him, and the terrifying energy instantly condensed into a palm dozens of meters wide, and slapped it blatantly.

Wu Ying was not afraid, and the whole person carried a thick ghost mist, like a sharp sword, blatantly slamming into the palm of his hand.

"Cultivating Immortals is by No Means" Chapter 227 My Pen Sentences Life and Death is in the middle of the hand, please wait a moment,

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