Boiling Beast Bloodline
Chapter 945 - 223: Thick-Skinned Martial Artist_2

Chapter 945: Chapter 223: Thick-Skinned Martial Artist_2

Amidst the exploding rocks, a person-shaped pit appeared on the ground, with fragmented stone slabs and earth irregularly propping up the edges of the pit.

The Seven-Colored Dragon’s physique was indeed remarkable; after being slammed by Liu Zhenhan, probably even a Sky Giant would have to rub its back and cry out, "Damn, that really hurts!" However, Ibrahim reacted swiftly as if unharmed, his legs sweeping out a shower of shattered stone fragments while he was still on the ground, pelting them straight at Liu Zhenhan, and then the Seven-Colored Dragon leapt out from the pit.

The whistling sound of the flying debris was as forceful as a powerful crossbow, gratingly sharp. The strength within could easily fracture a robust Tauren’s bones to the depth of a finger!

But Liu, the great official, was not hit by the stones; how could Saint Chiao, who augmented his shield with tattoos, be all talk and no action? The chaotic mix of stones and dirt was entirely blocked by a group of brilliant tattooed shields. When two different powers collided, the debris was the unlucky victim—with some crushed into powder on the spot and others flung into the air wildly, sparing not even the spectators on the 25-meter-high stands.

The distance was just too close; the Seven-Colored Dragon Ibrahim had just jumped out from the pit and into a fire pit. While his body was still in the air and his legs had not yet managed to twist for a kick, a heavy punch with great momentum had already smashed into his brow. Ibrahim tried to block, but it was of no use. Even his own palm was struck against his eye socket. Even if it had been made of steel, his eyelid could not withstand Liu Zhenhan’s fist, and the Seven-Colored Dragon Ibrahim felt darkness before his eyes as his body was sent flying backward.

That still wasn’t the end; Liu Zhenhan moved even faster than Ibrahim. Although the Seven-Colored Dragon had exhibited an impressive performance, his agile body twisting mid-air to perform a backward somersault, his "Swallowtail Clip" stance was not yet set when a chopping leg swept down like a fly-swatter and smacked against his leg, sending the Seven-Colored Dragon spiraling downwards in a somersault—Liu Zhenhan’s leg was formidable indeed!

There was no chance left; Liu Zhenhan dived forward, embraced Ibrahim’s body, and after rolling on the ground twice, the Seven-Colored Dragon’s entire body was firmly pinned down.

Liu Zhenhan’s broken arm was severed at the elbow. A short stump had now regrown, and it slipped through Ibrahim’s left armpit, wrenching his neck backward, while his other strong right hand reached under Ibrahim’s right armpit to hook around his neck.

Ibrahim struggled fiercely. His body was as hard as metal, but the magnitude of his strength did not seem to relate to his metallic body. The power of the Seven-Colored Dragon was truly formidable, but Liu Zhenhan’s "Dragonelephant Power" had already been enhanced twice. The full quadruple "Dragonelephant Power" was simply beyond the Seven-Colored Dragon’s reach.

If he couldn’t control a Seven-Colored Dragon with such immense physical strength and counter-joint capture techniques, he himself would probably buy a block of cheese and bash his head in—how could a counter-joint technique, which could enable a weak woman to subdue a large man, fail to dominate a Seven-Colored Dragon under preferable conditions?

Liu Zhenhan sat astride the Seven-Colored Dragon Ibrahim’s back, firmly bending Ibrahim’s neck backward, and even the entirely metallic structure of the Seven-Colored Dragon’s body was bent into an arch by this force. The Seven-Colored Dragon’s arms were locked tight under his armpits, flailing meaninglessly in front, while his legs on the ground kicked grooves into the stone floor. His legs swung wildly towards his back but hit nothing, as his knees had become pivot points.

"Stop moving!" Liu Zhenhan twisted Ibrahim’s neck in one direction, his strong arms forcing the Seven-Colored Dragon to comply with his movement—this strength was simply too great.

"Your neck is too thin! I humbly tell you," Liu Zhenhan said with a laugh filled with triumph, "a metal rod as thick as your neck, even if I can’t break it, I can still twist it into a rope." The Seven-Colored Dragon continued to struggle reluctantly, but it all seemed rather futile.

"Who taught you such martial arts!" The Seven-Colored Dragon Ibrahim was about to lose his mind, feeling that he had immense strength but was unable to apply it accurately. The two arms passing under his armpits left his metal-like hard body with no room for combat, completely locked in place.

"Are you an idiot?" Liu Zhenhan whispered into the ear of the Seven-Colored Dragon, "Wouldn’t it still be dragon slaying if I stabbed you to death?"

"Stop right there!" the voice of the Fairy Dragon Luna echoed coldly through the air, "Are you actually using a Magic Shield? What were the rules just stated? No magic use was explicitly forbidden! If you don’t want to be killed by elemental backlash, then stop your foolish behavior immediately!"

"Another idiot," Liu Zhenshan cursed angrily, "can’t you see my shield is of the tattoo type? You have dragon skin for protection, what’s wrong with me having a natural Shield?"

"You are the idiot! Beamon aren’t Magical Beast! Where would they get skin that naturally forms a Magic Shield?" Fairy Dragon Luna scoffed in anger, ready to strike down the insolent Beamon priest, when an arrow glowing with Flame Ice Manganese suddenly whizzed past her fair cheek. The sharp wind of the arrow created a series of sonic booms, which shocked Luna into breaking out in a cold sweat.

Slowly turning her head, she saw in the stands a somewhat hunched, weathered-looking Hausa archer, mounted on a three-meter tall, enormously bodied toad, holding a bow with one hand.

Next to him was a handsome black cat, with a handsome Night Elf sitting upon it, bathed in a gentle glow from the moonlight.

The toad croaked loudly several times, seemingly pleased to have a Fairy Dragon staring at it, its red eyes bulging with excitement.

"My arrows are always shot to pin down the hands that are about to cast spells, honorable Fairy Dragon, don’t force me to make a move," Nedved coolly unfolded a fan composed of densely packed arrow shafts, leisurely fanning himself with a breeze.

All the Beamon in the stands also turned their heads to focus on the Centaur archer.

"This short bow has a draw force of two horsepower and a range of a thousand yards," Nedved vigorously shook the Sarlas Flame short bow in his hand, made of Quark mercury, Demon Crystal of Flame Serpent, and Kui Niu tendon.

Luna felt a chilling sensation within her heart; she knew exactly what kind of Divine Archer among the Beamon would dare to make such a gesture.

Ordinary Divine Archers wouldn’t be so brazen. A Divine Archer’s arrow point must always be aimed at their enemy to feel safe. Only the most confident Beamon Divine Archers would separate the arrow from the bowstring in such a near-provocative manner.

Because they were fast archers using super-strong bows of over a thousand pounds draw weight, within a hundred yards, they liked to compare their draw speed with others’—this was their humility. If they were first to point at your head, you would be done for.

It is said that if you draw your weapon the same time as a skilled strongbow Divine Archer, their arrow would hit your forehead before your arm even fully rose.

For such archers, distance is no longer an obstacle or limitation. Even when faced in close combat with melee warriors, they are no longer easy targets, but rather messengers of death walking freely between light and shadow. Such Beamon archers have an ominous and awe-inspiring name that even the Dragon Clan finds intimidating—"Shadow Hunters."

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