Chapter 122 The Last Winner

"It's almost..." Jemole suddenly said. Having hit the heart, he still has the strength to speak and has to make people admire his tenacity.

Qin Yan raised his eyebrows and said, "What are you talking about? Why is it a little worse?" As soon as the words came out, there was a warning in my heart. In his perception, the vitality that the demon monk should have exhausted stopped the passing momentum and began to recover. In extreme surprise, he had no time to think too much. He raised his fists and flew to Yemole with a large amount of golden light.

"I almost let the poor monk return to the pure land..." Yemole sighed that he had not finished. Qin Yan had run a short walk, waved out with one punch, and the violent waves surged down, hitting the back of Yemole's hand covering his face, making a loud noise.

The land that has been ** countless times in this battle has cracked again. The power of this punch poured out to his heart's content. Yemole's legs fell deep into the land, and his face was bleeding, as sad as a ghost.

Qin Yan didn't wait for him to breathe, and pushed it out fiercely and hit him in the face. Suddenly, there was a crisp sound of blood, and blood splashed. The right hand covering his face was also thrown away by this palm, showing a miserable look after that.

The power of this palm is enough to break the body iron, which can almost directly blow the whole head on the human face, but it also failed to show its due power on Yemole's face, but made his nosebleed and half of his cheeks swollen.

Of course, Qin Yan was not satisfied. His fists fell like raindrops, and each punch had the power of a broken stone. He hit Yemole, making a dull roar, and from time to time brought a large string of blood flowers, covering Yemole all over his body. As a result, large pieces of earth and stones were trampled, and the land under the feet of Yemor was completely collapsed, and half of his body was buried.

Under such a violent attack, Yemole could only protect the key points, but the heavy force poured in through other parts. Even if it was the golden body of the Buddha, he couldn't help beating like this and began to twitch and tremble.

But Qin Yan's heart gradually sank. Although his body trembled and spewed blood, Yemole's arms did not stagnate because of this. Instead, they regained their feelings more and more. With the momentum of flowing clouds and soft water, they wrapped his attack and moved aside.

'What kind of monster has this guy changed! My heart was pierced and I was beaten so much. Why didn't you die for me!'

The other party's power seems to be slowly recovering, as if it is endless. If it goes on like this, it may be Qin Yan who loses!

Actually, I don't have much strength left... So, the next punch has decided to live and die!

Qin Yan took a deep breath, his waist sank, and the violent blood all over his body converged in his right hand. Before a punch came out, the surging power had brought tear-like pain. He gritted his teeth, mobilized his consciousness to attach to his fist, and aimed at the top of Yemole's head and smashed it hard.

"Kka!" The sound was not loud, and a large amount of smoke and dust was raised. Hundreds of steps of land collapsed half a meter, and Yemole finally failed to open this punch with a soft water palm. Qin Yan got it from the touch from his hand. This punch hit the real place!

If you are not dead, then I have to stretch out my neck and wait for you to kill me.

The strong wind rolled up, the smoke and dust flew, and cruising over the pits deep into the ground for a long time.

Qin Yan waited in front of the pit for a long time, and finally did not see the figure stand up again. There was silence in the black hole, only the wind roared. Is the monk, who seems to be immortal, finally finished under the punch of the sinking boat?

There seems to be no sign of life...

Due to the strong action and the will of the soul, Qin Yan is now humming by the force of counter-eating in his brain, and his perception has also been cut to an extremely weak level. He can't confirm the death of the demon monk, and he can't breathe a sigh of relief. After a long time, he felt that he had regained a little strength, so he walked down the slope of the pit and stepped into the smoke and dust to find out.

On the way, he suddenly heard the sound of the wind hitting his face. His heart tightened and instinctively raised his arm. He only felt as if he had hit a ball of cotton wool. The other party used the power of his blow to fly away and quickly away.

'He didn't die... However, he should have no combat effectiveness and must not let him run away!'

When he thought about this, Qin Yan desperately lifted the last bit of strength in his body, stepped heavily under his feet, strode across the pit, jumped out of the smoke and dust, and looked up to see a blood-stained figure floating in mid-air, cross-legged and pinched, as solemn as a Buddha.

Seeing such a scene, his heart was as cold as if it had been poured through cold water.

'Is the power and life of this person endless?'

Yamole sat in mid-air, pinched the seal like a Buddha, and rose to a higher place. After a series of fierce battles, his body at this moment is almost **, countless wounds are bleeding out, and a face is also destroyed. But at this moment, he did not show any embarrassment, emitting a thin golden light all over his body, and his sacred and solemn posture almost made people worship.

"If the position of the heart of the poor monk is not born different from ordinary people, I'm afraid I will really have to reincarnation... After all, the poor monk still underestimate the heroes of the world..." In the solemn light of the Buddha, Yemole slowly said, "Several benefactors are all dragons and phoenixes among people. Today's World War I, the poor monks benefited a lot, in order to express my gratitude..."

This is the declaration of the winner. After such a hard battle, he should slowly enjoy the final pleasure.

But I want to say, monk, you have too much nonsense!

Do you think that I am powerless, and you are the final winner? No! It's not over yet!

Qin Yan stared at the figure dozens of meters high in mid-air, and the skill of giving up his life was urged again, igniting the internal forces in his body. The internal force, which was originally insignificant compared with spiritual power and blood gas, once ignited, it also played a bursting effect like a long river.

At this time, a cold light flew from the rear, shot in mid-air, and hit in front of Yemole. It is a broken sword in the palm of Yuhanyan. Driven by Jiulongfeng's imperial swordsmanship, it can take a hundred steps and a thousand steps to take the head. But Yemole's eyes were not raised. He just stretched out his two fingers at will, which made the flying sword light stop abruptly. He was clamped between his fingers and couldn't help buzzing, but he couldn't break free.

Yamole did not frown and continued, "In order to express my gratitude, the poor monk decided to use the ultimate Aoyi of Chixia Temple, which I personally learned, to send the two of them on the road and go to the Western Heaven to meet my Buddha..."

When Qin Yan looked back, he saw Yu Hanyan's delicate body trembling, his hands were like a sword, and he could not help trembling with the sword light in the air. His mouth and nose kept bleeding, and his body was shaking.

This scene made his mind hot, his blood surge, and he looked up to the sky and roared: "Yamolu--" flame-like power penetrated the eight classics and walked through all kinds of tricks, like a strong wind through the sky, and in a blink of an eye, he had been running in his body for a week, forcing it to his legs. Once again, it will be like a eagle flying in the sky, rising against the strong wind and waves, punching at the awe-inspiring Buddha-like figure.