"Young Master Murong, teach this arrogant fool a proper lesson!"
"Young Master Murong, well done!"
"Gusu Murong is renowned throughout the land. How could mere Zhuo Bufan possibly defeat him?"
The island and cave masters, eager for chaos, all began egging them on.
Murong Fu looked rather pleased with himself. He had come this time to win people over, and Zhuo Bufan had obligingly thrown himself into the fray.
After staring at him for a moment, Zhuo Bufan realized that this man was his greatest enemy here. As long as he defeated him, he could imitate Tianshan Tonglao and control the Thirty-six Islands and Seventy-two Caves. "I would like to experience Gusu Murong's Returning Injuries with the Same Technique."
As soon as he spoke, he suddenly drew his sword with a swish. Cold light flashed. Murong Fu had been prepared; he used his family's lightness skill to shift several feet sideways through the air, causing the strike to miss.
The crowd only heard several soft hissing sounds. The Eight Immortals table behind Murong Fu had been cut into nine perfectly even pieces that collapsed onto the ground. In that instant, Zhuo Bufan had made two vertical cuts and two horizontal cuts, striking four times in succession to carve a grid into the table. More remarkable still, all nine wooden pieces were square and identical in size, as though they had been measured with a ruler before being carefully cut apart. Although many in the hall bore him hostility, they could not help bursting into thunderous applause.
Though his strike had missed, Zhuo Bufan did not pursue. He merely said coldly, "Young Master Murong, you have quite the reputation. I have been waiting for you to use Returning Injuries with the Same Technique. Why do you keep dodging?"
Murong Fu replied