Boiling Beast Bloodline
Chapter 948 - 223 KO_3

Chapter 948: Chapter 223 KO_3

"This is an unfair fight!" Fairy Dragon Luna exclaimed angrily, "What kind of fighting style is this! You are simply too cunning and despicable, Beamon!"

"Is there really such a thing as fairness in this world? According to your logic, should I stand there and let your husband, this pile of iron, kick me with his cast-iron feet until I’m crawling on the ground to be fair?" Liu Zhenhan snorted disdainfully, "Do you think you are the fool, or do you think I am?"

"You..." Fairy Dragon Luna stammered, unable to say another word.

"I have lost." The Seven-Colored Dragon Ibrahim let out a long sigh, his neck still clasped.

Liu Zhenhan, hearing this, was momentarily stunned, then laughed and let go of the firmly grasped head.

"Your words do make sense," the Seven-Colored Dragon Ibrahim said as he pushed himself up from the ground, slowly standing, dusting off the dirt from his body, and looking at Liu Zhenhan, "I was tricked, and I can’t blame anyone else. Although it’s hard to accept the loss, I still lost."

"You were too strong; I had to resort to some tricks to handle you," Liu Zhenhan spoke frankly.

"Let’s go again, this time I won’t use ’Metal Solidification,’ and let us fight fairly," the Seven-Colored Dragon said, gazing at Liu Zhenhan, his body’s metallic sheen gradually fading, returning his skin to its pale, jade-like tone.

"Having the honor to fight such a powerful being as you is my privilege," Liu Zhenhan said modestly, although in his heart, he was resolute, thinking how incredibly tough this dragon was.

This time, Ibrahim learnt his lesson. Having been caught in close combat twice, he had psychological shadows, so he stepped back about ten steps to maintain a proper distance from Liu Zhenhan, stretched his legs, did splits on the ground to stretch his tendons, and then jumped up ready for the fight.

Liu Zhenhan picked up his own Mithril arm, strapped it onto his left arm, and with a "click" locked the clasp, casually pulling out a chain-attached iron stake from the ground, weighing it and tucking it under his arm as he bent it effortlessly into a bend, folding it three times, then squishing it like pinching a dumpling, ingeniously turned the half-man-tall iron stake into an irregular iron egg with a long chain dragging behind, effectively making a DIY flail.

The Seven-Colored Dragon Ibrahim was a bit confused; knowing he had bipolar magnetic skin, why did this guy create a flail? But more than confusion, Ibrahim was cautious, knowing his sly opponent was not only incredibly strong but also ruthless and cunning, never doing anything pointless.

"Let’s start," Liu Zhenhan said, knowing the other wouldn’t rush to speak this time, and he grinned.

The Seven-Colored Dragon Ibrahim kicked a leg first to the left and then to the right, moved his body again, exhaled a long breath, frowned, and shouted explosively. He spun and pulled his stance wide, casting three residual images in a line and swiftly spinning to Liu Zhenhan’s front, delivering a powerful and heavy side kick first.

Having removed Metal Solidification, Ibrahim had reached the peak of agility. This time he hadn’t used his magnetic abilities; the previous experience of being stuck had been a lesson. In case his opponent’s Mithril arm came off again, he would be in trouble. He also couldn’t use repulsion; kicking his opponent away would mean there was no one left to fight.

Liu Zhenhan swung his right hand, the chain wrapping around his arm from palm to elbow, forming an iron fist, which, sized like a bull’s head, matched his wrist perfectly. Ibrahim was fast, but Liu Zhenhan was not slow either. After the first kick was parried by the Mithril arm, the iron-encased fist collided fiercely with Ibrahim’s second leg, not only meeting the force of Ibrahim’s powerful kick but also delivering a secondary impact with the wrist’s iron mass.

Liu Zhenhan used the standard Saint Kailu martial arts, with the Mithril fist for defense and the iron-wire fist for offense.

The clash between the iron arm and heavy leg didn’t last long; both parties exchanged punches and kicks and, using the recoil, retreated. Ibrahim’s leg trembled slightly, clearly at a disadvantage. Without Metal Solidification, his ability to withstand hits was evidently inferior compared to when he was in full metal state, and now that Liu Zhenhan’s fists were both covered in iron, his strength overwhelming, Ibrahim clearly couldn’t compete; no matter how hard the dragon skin was, it wasn’t stronger than his previous full metal structure.

Seeing the Seven-Colored Dragon hesitating, Liu Zhenhan burst out laughing and charged forward, his whole body covered in spiky Feilengcui lord skin, like a giant, sprinting hedgehog. His heavy iron fist, making a "whoosh" sound as it cut through the air, swung a right hook towards Ibrahim’s cheek.

Ibrahim pulled out his specialty again, agilely performed a backflip in the air, his legs forming a "swallow tail scissors," the sharp scissor kick gracing Liu Zhenhan’s primarily guarded Mithril arm, sparking a cascading fountain of sparks.

Taking advantage of this kick, Ibrahim flipped twice in the air without landing and cleverly used magnetic adhesion, gliding diagonally towards the Piegel Priest, launching dozens of kicks in midair, all targeting the Piegel Priest’s forehead, keeping Liu Zhenhan busy blocking all sides. Without several Magic Shields, he would have really suffered a few grievous kicks; even so, Liu Zhenhan was left with only two shields after this barrage of cyclonic kicks.