Chapter 1811

However, when Feng Chen Chuan Ji murmured in a deep voice, all the people around him shook their heads and laughed.

"What?"

"Does FengChen think that master Nakai, one of the three masters of the sword god palace, was killed by this younger generation?"

"Don't tease."

"It's just a jerk. I'm afraid it's not full of hair."

"The Lord of FengChen's family is afraid of thinking too much."

...

"yes, master FengChen, you are worried too much."

"The cultivation of martial arts is not a matter of a day and a night."

"This Chinese child, even if he started to study martial arts from his mother's belly, would only have practiced martial arts for 20 years."

"At this time, no matter how good his talent is, how far can he practice?"

"I'm afraid it is. The master is not."

"You should know that ye Qingtian, the Chinese god of war, is the fastest known person to step into the realm of a master."

"I remember when he was nearly thirty."

"The master of Nakai palace is the master's realm. If it is true that the master of the FengChen family said, he was killed by this younger generation."

"Doesn't that mean that he is also a master?"

"Twenty year old master, is it possible?"

They all shook their heads and laughed, and obviously did not agree with Toyotomi's conjecture.

Think about it. The youngest martial arts master in the past 100 years was only achieved when he was 30 years old.

And the man in front of him was in his early twenties.

In the world of martial arts and Taoism, the age of 20 can only be regarded as a teenager.

Of course, people don't think that a young boy can have the power of a master.

In the face of what they said, he did not refute anything, but said in a deep voice: "it will be clear whether this young man did it or not."

Feng Chen Chuan Ji face no expression, slowly said.

However, he looked at Ye Fan's eyes, but gradually became dignified.

"Can it be you?"

Feng Chen Chuan Ji heart, murmured.

-

in the sky of the East China Sea, the jade fan is hanging upside down.

Under the sun, Fuji snow!

Under the joint attack of the eight disciples of Sanshen Pavilion, a huge sword, which runs for 100 meters, is erected on the top of Mount Fuji.

Then, with a long roar, the eight disciples pinched the formula with both hands and crossed the air to defend the sword.

Whoosh ~

the sword cuts through the sky, and the rainbow cuts the Tianhe!

The next moment, under the control of the eight disciples of Sanshen Pavilion, the golden sword swept away towards Ye Fan's place.

"Son of a bitch, go to hell!"

The crowd laughed grimly and whispered.

All people have pity on their faces, like looking at the corpse, looking at Ye Fan in front.

There are eight disciples of Sanshen Pavilion, four martial masters and four others. Although they are not masters, they are only one step away from them.

Under the joint attack of eight of them, it is estimated that even the title master dare not resist.

Therefore, in the eyes of most people, Ye Fan will surely die under this sword.

However, is this really the case?

Between the storm, Ye Fan is still calm.

In the face of the golden sword, he stood aloof and sneered.

"The fireflies dare to compete with the bright moon?"

"A group of rats, who are not even masters, dare to stop me?"

In the cold laughter, Ye Fan stepped on the ground and suddenly rose from the ground.

On the top of Mount Fuji, everyone can see that Ye Fan stands on the Tianhe river with one punch!

Yes.

There was no retreat, no evasion.

Facing the joint attack of the eight disciples of Sanshen Pavilion, Ye Fan is not afraid and fearless. He directly takes a violent posture and takes the most primitive way to fight with his front hard anus.