Wang Heng, who was six or seven meters away from the Tyrant, was already lying on the ground like a stiff python, and the big pool of blood kept surging under him.

On this kid's back, there were three wounds half a centimeter deep crisscrossed together, and the upturned flesh was so miserable and bloody exposed to the cold of late autumn. But he knew that the heaviest injury was not in his back, but in his left ribs and right chest.

In the battle just now, the ribs of the chest were instantly hit by the tyrant in two palms, although the "Futu reappeared" offset part of the strength, but the internal organs still suffered serious injuries. The scorching mass of flames between his chest and abdomen was raging his muscles and organs, and streams of red blood continued to overflow from Wang Heng's mouth like a spring.

The strong autumn wind with a slight chill continued to blow on the top of the Angry Sword Peak. Patches of yellow fallen leaves fluttered and swirled in the sky, as if the elves in the sky were singing for blood and lamenting for life.

The rapid, painful wheezing of the tyrant, and the convulsions of the whole body from time to time, are a manifestation of great physical exertion, and of course, a typical symptom of pain all over the body.

Tyrant Zhang is harmless, since his debut at the age of thirty, there have been more than 100 fights, but he has never been so seriously injured.

This time, although he is against Wang Heng, who is known as the top master of the younger generation in the rivers and lakes, his cultivation realm is only Xuanduan, and he is three small levels away, even if he adds the opponent's Heavenly Lion Spirit Beast, his overall strength is still much worse than him. However, the final result of the fight was unexpected.

Tyrant forcibly endured the severe pain all over his body, took off the black iron glove in his right hand, panted and took out a few pills from the treasure bag he carried, threw them into his mouth without looking at them, chewed them twice, and swallowed them in one gulp. It seems to be a kind of elixir for the treatment of internal injuries, after all, when Wang Heng's evil slashing blade slashed his chest and back, the internal strength contained in the blade penetrated into his body, causing certain damage to his meridians and internal organs.

The big face of the tyrant was covered with blood, both his own and his opponent's, mixed together, and from a distance, the tyrant was now like a blood beast that had escaped from hell.

But seeing the rampaging hahaha, he laughed wildly, "Haha, Wang Heng, isn't it known as the arrogance of wartime? Today, isn't your arrogance dissipated in the hands of my arrogant tyrant?"

"Arrogant, arrogant, all bullshit, all floating clouds, that's ......"

As soon as he said this, suddenly, the crazy shouting and hilarious laughter of the tyrant stopped abruptly, so abruptly, like a duck that was suddenly choked by the neck, all the syllables and voices disappeared without a trace in an instant.

It turned out that he saw Wang Heng, who was originally prostrate on the ground and had no breath, and gradually got up again, like a wounded tiger, his body trembling and spasming, and he was propped up little by little. The speed of propping up was so slow and so difficult, but in the end, it was holding up and standing up.

At this time, there was no pain in Wang Heng's whole body, especially the burning pain of the internal organs, as if he was thrown into a violently burning stove, and the scorching barbecue was mixed with heart-rending pain.

There was a blur in front of him, the originally dark sky, in the blood in the eyes, bloody, foggy, with a trace of misery, pieces of terror, just like coming to the bloody Hades Palace.

The wounds on his shoulder, right rib, and back were still oozing blood, and the original black strength was soaked in blood, dyed into a strange color of black with red and red against black.

At the peak of the dark, hissing and howling Angry Sword Peak, Wang Heng was like a powerful ghost from the underworld, gloomy, bleak and cold.

"Hahaha, Wang Heng, you unbeatable Xiaoqiang, Wang Heng of nine lives, until now, you have only one breath left after being beaten by my tyrant. Don't talk about fighting, even one breath can blow you down. ”

Shaking his head slightly, Wang Heng slowly inhaled a breath of autumn cold air with a hint of coolness, trying to restrain the feeling of blood rolling and dizziness. The sound was like a dry ground, a crack came out, although it was weak, it was still as hard as a stone, cold as a cold ice bead, and burst out of the lips word by word:

"Crazy... Ba, don't say those useless, I'm still standing in front of you, sir. Again, life is in front of you, if you want, you still need to take it yourself. But I'm afraid that you don't have that ability, master, I will throw these 100 catties on the top of this Angry Sword Peak today, and I will take you with me. ”

The cold and hard word "go" was like an ice bead that began to shatter in the air, and Wang Heng's figure had already grown and advanced.

Wang Heng knew clearly in his heart that if he couldn't succeed in the flash of time, then he and the Heavenly Lion Spirit Beast would have to die on the top of the mountain. With his current torn body and dry internal strength, he is no longer able to perform the "Reversal of the Universe", even if it lasts for another ten seconds in this case, there will only be one dead word in the end.

I saw Wang Heng's teeth bite hard, and his left hand probed violently, and the Xueliang dagger suddenly appeared, and a fierce backstab directly pierced the position of the dantian on his abdomen. Of course, this is not a suicide, but the most vicious trick in Tianlong's Qixue, "Thorn Strength".

The external force stimulates the most concentrated point of the Tianlong's internal strength in the body, thereby stirring the internal energy to burn and boil, bursting out of the crazy strength that is usually unattainable.

And once this "thorn point agitation" is used, one's own muscles and veins will be greatly damaged, and it will take a long time of cultivation to recover slowly. But Wang Heng's life is almost impossible to save now, how can he have the heart to think about it in the future?

The dagger entered the strength point, and the internal strength of the heavenly dragon in the body was like a volcano bursting out in an instant, surging and surging over, and the whole body was like a cannonball about to explode, with a strong gray-black death aura that destroyed the world and the earth, and exploded towards the tyrant.

In the moment of collision, the evil slashing blade in his hand swung wildly, and the blue sharp cold blade actually bloomed with a trace of black and gray light, which simply violated the laws of the world and the principles of the world, and contained cruelty in the weird, and madness in the fantasy.

The eleventh type of the thirteen slashes of the heavenly sword "Tianhai Closed Sun", under the infusion of the rolling Tianlong's internal strength, covering the sky and covering the sun, swayed again and again to spin out six six thirty-six blades.

The blades meet with the blades, the knives are connected with the knives, the blades are flipped, the tips of the knives are poked wildly, flashing out the ever-changing moments, flying, swirling, sweeping, and scattering, just like a boiling sea of anger, the vicious waves are surging, and like the flames of explosions, burning the fire.

The overlord's originally rampant smile was like a thousand miles of ice, instantly frozen on his cheeks and frozen on his forehead.

In the extreme consternation, the tyrant's body was like a mountain, his palms were like electricity, and the "Black Dragon in the Sea" of the Black Wind was wildly and uninhibited, and he waved twenty-three palms in a row. At the moment of swinging, his left foot suddenly burst up, turning sixteen different directions from bottom to top, twisting and drifting, forming a high-speed rotating leg wheel, shaking, flickering and whirling towards Wang Heng's figure.

The reaction of the tyrant cannot be said to be not fast, nor can it be said that it is not strong, but how to look at it, how to have a trace of indescribable panic, uh, and a little bit of fear.