Without hesitation, Madara pulled out the scythe in front of him to block, and then was hit hard by Fanma like a crazy bull. The huge and terrifying power was instantly transmitted through the scythe to Madara's arms, which made Madara's arms numb.
Madara's feet were deeply rooted in the ground, leaving two deep and long ravines to withstand Fanma's powerful and heavy crushing impact. However, before Madara could take a breath, Fanma's palm-sized palm had already swung down hard.
It was obvious that the whimpering sound of the wind could only be caused by the palm of a human being, but it was far more powerful than Madara's usual wave of War Fan.
"It's simply not human!" Madara relied on the explosive power generated by Eight Inner Gates's sixth gate, Gate of View, and leaned his scythe down on the ground. He jumped forward with both feet in the air and kicked forward desperately, winning head-on against Fanma's iron palms.
"It doesn't look like a human being at all!" Rao Shiban's body has been tempered for many times and has far surpassed the same level. However, when faced with the monster-like power of Fanma, the blood in his chest was still surged by the shock.
Fanma's hands were slightly curled up to relieve the pressure. His body was like a steel nail stuck in the ground, trembling slightly without taking a step back. His eyes were filled with stars, like a liger that had been hungry for a long time, looking greedily at its prey.
Don't let me underestimate you! spot!
Madara seemed to also see the provocation in Fanma's eyes, the corners of his mouth turned up slightly, the fighting spirit in his eyes burned stronger and stronger, and he strode forward with his scythe behind him at a faster speed than when he retreated just now.
Fanma saw this scene and still did not dodge. With his bare hands, his most powerful weapon was his body. One arm was like a steel whip and he whipped towards Madara and even made a sound that was extremely loud in this empty battlefield.
Madara was already very close to Fanma's iron arm, but at this time, Madara's speed did not slow down at all. He knelt on his knees and used the momentum to slide forward like a stream of light. The scythe held tightly in one hand was swung by Madara with huge inertia, and he whipped Fanma's knees hard.
Fanma was also caught off guard by this blow. He only felt a slight pain in his knees. It turned out that the blade of Madara's scythe hit the side of his knee, and the blade of the scythe was being yanked backwards by Madara, hooking towards Fanma's leg like a hook.
As we all know, a person's knee joints, especially the leg bends, cover the least muscles due to frequent flexible activities. Even Fanma must be one of the weak points as long as it does not transcend the category of human beings.
"How are you going to face it? Fanma!" Madara thought excitedly as he looked at the shimmering sickle blade getting closer and closer to the crook of Fanma's leg.
Fanma felt a shiver in his heart. He also knew that Madara's attack was so cruel and subtle. Once the tendon at the crook of the leg was severed, the leg would be useless and Fanma's strength would be greatly reduced.
Then, the moment the scythe blade with a huge force hooked on the crook of Fanma's leg, it seemed as if it had struck a piece of very tough cowhide. Although it had torn out wrinkles, it was not cut open as Madara expected.
At this moment when he was blocked, Fanma's legs bent according to the power of the scythe and he squatted down. Under Madara's gaze, the scythe was clamped directly and unable to move.
Fanma The blood on the crook of the leg flowed down drop by drop along the angular calf muscles. Facts have proved that Madara's attack is still effective.
"No one has hurt me in a long time! You are the only one in recent years!" Fanma did not dodge or dodge, allowing Madara to raise his foot and kick him hard on the chin, making him lean back slightly, but Fanma actually closed his eyes slightly and said with great enjoyment.
"Might as well let it flow more!" Madara sneered slightly. The iron chain wrapped around the sickle and War Fan had been untied at some point, and it was put around Fanma's neck. Madara's forehead was covered with blue. With his tendons exposed, he stepped forward with his left foot and stepped heavily on the ground. His center of gravity sank slightly, and then he held the iron chain with both hands and suddenly threw Lijiang Fanma's body as heavy as Qian Jun into the air.
"Is this your trump card?" Fanma was extremely surprised in the air. He turned his head slightly in the air and glanced sideways at Madara who appeared like Teleportation behind him.
"Remember the name of this move, Front Lotus!" Madara smiled slightly, revealing his neat and white teeth, which for some reason made people shudder.
Fanma, who was stranded in the air, was unable to resist Madara, who had high-strength mobility. In other words, he had no intention of resisting, so he watched helplessly as Madara used slender chains to create a fine net around him, and then came to him.
"Let me see if you are brave enough to watch this Lotus Flower Flame bloom!" Madara, with his black hair flying freely, was releasing an indescribable momentum. His eyes, which were only the whites of his eyes, gave people a sharp feeling like knives. Before he finished speaking, Madara grasped one end of the chain and pulled back suddenly, causing the originally loose chain net to suddenly tighten and tie up Fanma firmly.
At this time, the two of them had reached a height of three or four floors. Madara was attached to the back of the huge body of Fanma, which was wrapped like a mummy. The direction of the adjustment was like a meteorite, falling towards the ground under the influence of gravity.
"Hahahahahaha! Let the strongest body that I am proud of collide with your years!" Fanma was clearly at the end of his rope, but he did not struggle and still smiled with joy and let Madara lead him to fall to the ground. The speed was so fast that he could only hear the whimpering wind in his ears.
Just like an asteroid hitting the mainland, Madara was seen attached to Fanma's body, dragging a long bloody tail flame and falling heavily to the ground with an unstoppable momentum.
The spectators only felt the ground shake violently, and spider web-like cracks appeared one after another, just like the branches of trees spreading crazily from the field, and even tearing apart the thick protective wall.
The vast aftermath made them stand up involuntarily, holding on to the handrails of the guardrail with both hands, leaning forward and looking down into the smoke-filled field, their eyes filled with morbid excitement and curiosity.
"Is this lotus beautiful?" The smoke dispersed slightly, revealing a thin black shadow. Just the size of it told people that it was not Fanma but Madara who could stand.
"Look, it's really beautiful! I really hope that person can be smashed into pieces so that this flower can be beautiful enough!" The sharp-eyed onlookers had already seen the general shape through the thin smoke and dust that had not yet dissipated, and pointed downwards and shouted loudly.
Under the haze of smoke, the cracks that originally spread on the ground were faintly transformed into rough lines depicting the lotus poured with blood.
In the sinkhole created by the impact in the middle part, sputtering scarlet blood spread all over every corner, and the bright stamens of a lotus were so dazzling.
Fanma's body was densely covered with wounds. He lay motionless and silent in the center as if he had become a corpse.
"You don't think I'm going to die like this, do you?" Fanma grabbed Madara's ankle like a fake corpse and instantly smashed him to the ground. Blood was obviously flowing from all the orifices, but his momentum did not weaken but became more brutal.
Madara held his head slightly to cushion the impact of the impact when he landed. He finally took this opportunity to break free from Fanma's iron-hooped palm. After landing, he rolled several times before the terrifying force was relieved.
At this time, both of them were covered in blood and looked extremely miserable and embarrassed, but a bright light called fighting spirit flashed in their eyes. These small pains would not only not affect them, but would make them stronger.
The two of them roared and rushed toward each other with an incomparable tacit understanding. Whether it was Fanma's iron fist or the scythe that Madara had just landed on the ground, they had already formed afterimages, dazzling the spectators in the stands.
The sound of gold and iron clashing and the muffled sound of flesh colliding from time to time seemed to be the beautiful music of killing on the battlefield. The waves were louder than the waves. From time to time, there was a little blood splashing, which pushed the performance to the climax.