Once he had fully integrated all his various boxing and kicking techniques, Ding Ling would naturally choose a clean and decisive end to this bout.
"Caijia Fist!"
His fist style changed.
It went from vast and fierce to cunning and vicious.
Zhang Feiyan struggled to cope. After dozens of exchanges, cold sweat drenched his back.
His eyes were filled with disbelief as he looked at Ding Ling.
He truly could not understand how one person could study several completely different boxing styles to the point where each had reached the level of mastery and become instinctive!
This was simply too incredible.
Yet what made it even harder for him to believe was that this was only the beginning of the changes in Ding Ling's fist techniques!
"Fengmen Fist!"
The technique drifted like the wind, leaving no trace to follow.
Zhang Feiyan was toyed with by Ding Ling as if he were being led around like a dog, until he was drenched in sweat.
"Eight Trigrams Palm!"
The fist technique suddenly transformed into a palm technique. Every palm strike carried astonishing force, as if the Eight Trigrams themselves were descending to trap him in one place.
Caught off guard, Zhang Feiyan's eye was beaten swollen!
His pain was so intense that his gums showed, and he instinctively opened his mouth to surrender.
But Ding Ling's palm technique changed again. Baleful qi weighed heavily in the palm wind, and a wave of searing heat rushed toward him, forcing his words back down his throat.
"Iron Sand Palm!"
"Lion Gait Palm!"
"Python Gait Palm!"
"Continuous Chain Palm!"
All kinds of palm and fist techniques constantly shifted!
Combined with his light and nimble wall-scaling movement technique, Ding Ling beat Zhang Feiyan until, in the end, he could no longer figure out where Ding