"Illusion Technique!"
Zhong Lin knew a bit about illusion techniques. On the Xuan Gui Continent, there were illusionists, as well as magicians from past lives.
Low-level illusions rely used so special techniques or the play of light and shadow to deceive the eyes, achieving concealnt, disappearance, or imitation.
More advanced ones could only be perford by Martial Artists, employing secret techniques or special Spiritual Origin to create countless changes, making it impossible to guard against, freely altering forms, concealing tracks, and confusing the enemy unrivaled.
It is said that the more advanced illusions are no longer illusions at all; when the false becos true, borrowing the false to cultivate truth, even reaching the point of creating things out of nothing.
Of course, Sang Qianqin could not achieve this, but her illusion technique was indeed very clever.
Zhong Lin, being a seasoned warrior, was not panicked upon seeing this scene. In the next mont, his surroundings vibrated, and the void trembled, as endless dragon energy stread down from the deep void, entering all the acupuncture points on Zhong Lin’s body.
"Roar!"
The void trembled, the acupuncture points on Zhong Lin’s body stirred by the dragon energy descending from the void, forming faint cyan scales on the surface of his acupuncture points. All the scales kept sliding, and faintly, there were resounding dragon roars in the void, as if an enormous true dragon was passing through Zhong Lin’s body.
"Eight Desolate Dragon God, Body Protection Divine Skill, Congeal!"
Zhong Lin suddenly shouted loudly, and the dragon-shaped phantom wandering within his body continuously congealed, transforming from a phantom into reality, manifesting as eight true dragons circling his body.
Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!
At this mont, Sang Qianqin also resolutely attacked from all directions, with countless figures wielding Spirit Swords stabbing from all sides.
However, under the encirclent of the eight true dragons, there was no flaw around Zhong Lin, effortlessly blocking all of Sang Qianqin’s attacks.
"Sister Sang, if your attacks are only this much, you might as well concede!"
Zhong Lin raised his hands, a massive ball of light in a dragon shape condensed and launched forward.
This ball of light was like an aurora, bright and dazzling, with shimring brilliance piercing through the heavens and earth.
"Extre Light, Mystic Sky True Fiend, Yin Yang Oscillation, Shatter the Wicked, Dragon-shaped True Fiend Wave."
This was a secret technique carried by the Mystic Sky Dragon Transformation Technique, extrely powerful, capable of easily leveling a mountain top.
Sang Qianqin, who was forcefully attempting to break Zhong Lin’s defense, was startled and was just about to dodge when she saw a dragon-shaped extre light rushing towards her, too late to avoid it, directly facing her.
"Nine Palace Sword Formation."
In a hurry, Sang Qianqin changed her tactic, shouted sharply, Spiritual Origin surged, and the Nine Palace pattern appeared on her, with a virtual shadow of her Spirit Sword floating at the center of each pattern, colliding with the dragon-shaped True Fiend Wave.
Bang!
A loud explosion echoed, the Nine Palace Sword Formation completely blocked the dragon-shaped True Fiend Wave. In its high-speed rotation, light rain flew everywhere, as if a rain of auroras was falling.
"tal of the Five Elents, Shape of the Sun and Moon, Wandering Dragon Sword Slash."
In the aurora rain, Sang Qianqin’s figure suddenly disappeared, once again showing her formidable strength. Her body emitted tens of thousands of Sword Qi, actually rging with the Spirit Sword in her hand, transforming into a torrent-like Sword Qi, condensed to the extre, slashing towards Zhong Lin.
Zhong Lin’s face was extrely cold. With a rub of his hands, the Eight Desolate Divine Dragon phantoms circling him gathered into his palms, finally materializing into a hundred-zhang true dragon.
"Great Cycle Ten Thousand Dragons Silence!"
Screech!
A dragon’s roar resounded through the entire world, and instantly, the entire arena was filled with dragon-shaped phantoms. Even dozens of miles away, disciples felt a dampness in their chests as if a huge mountain was pressing on their hearts.
Facing the true dragon summoned by Zhong Lin, Sang Qianqin gritted her silver teeth, showing no intent to dodge, driving her Spirit Sword to continue colliding.
But in the next mont, her face changed drastically, for she suddenly discovered that her Spirit Sword was swaying uncontrollably to one side.
"This... not good!"
Sang Qianqin panicked, quickly trying to sense the Spirit Sword and suppress it powerfully with Spiritual Origin.
But it was already too late.
Bang! Bang! Boom! Boom!
The space paused for more than an instant, and countless star-exploding cannon sounds still roared.
"Ugh!"
Sang Qianqin spewed a mouthful of blood in mid-air. Her whole body was directly blown away, heavily hitting a distant mountain and then falling down.
Zhong Lin stepped forth, appearing directly in front of Sang Qianqin, looking down, his arm raised.
"I concede."
Sang Qianqin hurriedly shouted, fearing that if she was late, she would be killed by a punch.
Upon hearing this, Zhong Lin’s aura slowly diminished, not as violent as just now.
At this mont, the referee spoke up tily.
"Zhong Lin, victory."
Sang Qianqin endured the pain on her body and slowly stood up, her eyes tightly fixed on Zhong Lin.
"How did you do it? Why couldn’t I control my sword?"
Zhong Lin smiled calmly, "I’m quite interested in Sister Sang’s illusion techniques too; we should have a discussion soti."
Sang Qianqin also realized her previous words were sowhat presumptuous. After all, they were still in public, and the tournant wasn’t over yet. No one wanted to expose their trump cards too much.
Calming down the vibrations of her internal Spiritual Origin, she gracefully smiled, "If Senior Brother is interested, after the tournant, I will warmly welco you."
"We’ll see, we’ll see."
The battle ended, and cheers rang out. Besides Chu Yu and others, there were also other Outer Sect disciples shouting fervently.
In the Martial Arts World, the strong are revered. If Zhong Lin was previously sowhat famous due to his identity as a Seventh Grade Alchemist, now his renown had resounded through the Outer Sect disciples of Heavenly Sword City.
In the top ten of the tournant, it was a certainty that he would beco an Inner Sect disciple, especially now that he had advanced to the top five; being a True Disciple was not impossible.
What is a True Disciple?
That represents the true face of the Holy Land, with a cultivation at least of the Life and Death Realm.
The Life and Death Realm! Such cultivation is a supre powerhouse anywhere, with a lifespan of three thousand years, comparable to the ancestor level.
Now they only regretted not making acquaintance with Zhong Lin earlier, and he was a Seventh Grade Alchemist.
If they knew Zhong Lin had already advanced to the Eighth Rank, they would probably regret it even more, with their intestines turning green with regret.
The battle ended, and Zhong Lin soared into the sky, about to fly away, when he saw several figures approaching from afar.
Three n and one woman.
The woman Zhong Lin recognized, turned out to be Lou Yue, whom Chu Yu and others often ntioned.
To Lou Yue’s left was a young man with an enchanting appearance and a head of blue hair. This "blue hair" was not a taphor, but his hair was truly blue.
Wearing a yellow robe, with a cyan Spirit Sword on his back, he looked very eerie.
To Lou Yue’s right was a tall young man with a cold deanor, dressed in a black robe. His entire being exuded an intense Sword Intent, making others’ eyes hurt with a few extra glances, as if he was not a person but a Divine Sword stabbing towards the heavens.
The last one wore a silver crown, clad in silver-white armor, with cloud-patterned boots, eyes deep-set, face cold as jade, like a war god.
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