"Still too young."
Kun Yun stood not far away, hands clasped behind his back, smiling as he watched the scene.
Even if a small chunk of Wang Sicong's fist had been chopped off, he still had a smile on his face.
Fight, fight, if the clam doesn't contend, how could this old man be a fisherman?
The pain brought by the fist, Wang Sicong could endure. Because this pain was less than a fifth of the pain during the bloodline inheritance, that kind of pain could really kill!
"You bitch!"
Wang Sicong cursed, raising his fist again. He couldn't believe that a broken sword could block his fists!
"Overestimate yourself!"
Xu Xianrong let go of her right hand, holding the sword in her left.
There was no other reason but disdain for him!
"I'll kill you!"
This time, Wang Sicong didn't use both fists, but focused all his strength on his right fist, gathering all his power before striking. Even with his own blood splattering, it was like a tragic victory gained by hurting oneself.
