Noticing the sudden southerly wind, Yèvr put down his teacup.

"Who are you?"

Nanfeng took off his sunglasses, and the golden retriever on his head didn't look like a good person.

"I'm just an ordinary audience, I just watched your performance on stage, tsk, how can I say it, is the level of the swordsmanship competition so low now?"

Hearing Nanfeng's words, Yevre's disciples immediately became furious.

"What do you kid say! Underweight beating, right? ”

Yevre waved his hand, signaling his apprentice not to make trouble, and then looked at the south wind with a calm face.

"If you're here to find fault, I advise you to give up, I still have a game in a while, and I don't have time to deal with you."

Nanfeng threw his sunglasses on the table.

"I'm not looking for fault, I'm just disagreeing with you, I don't think you deserve the title of swordsmanship master at all."

"And what do you want?"

"Try it with me, as long as you can beat me, I will obey you."

It was as if he had heard the funniest joke in the world.

"Heh, young man, what does it matter to me whether you accept it or not? I won't do any good if I win you, I'll have a game later, but I don't have the effort to waste energy with you. ”

The south wind snorted softly.

"Hmph, if you're afraid, just say it, return the master of swordsmanship, I'll take a loudspeaker around the venue in a while, and publicize the dignified Master Yevr, even an ordinary audience will not dare to fight."

Yevre furrowed.

"I said I don't have time, and in peacetime, I can fight at any time."

The south wind rolled up its sleeves.

"It's okay, I won't delay your time, one minute is enough."

"What can a minute be compared to?"

"Let's compare the simplest, since we are people who practice martial arts, wrist strength must be the basic skill, come, let's compare to a wrist wrestler."

Yevre slapped the table.

"Okay."

With that, he rolled up his sleeves as well, revealing his stout wrists and calloused palms.

....

The wrist-wrestling between masters is different from street gangsters, paying attention to an internal force, and fighting is a breath of free air, just like a long psychological game.

Those who dared to challenge him, Yevr naturally did not underestimate the enemy, he was lucky, and he was ready to use seven points of strength first to test what realm the south wind belonged to.

But I never expected that this temptation would be gone.

Nanfeng didn't care about thirty-seven twenty-one, after holding Yevre's palm, he puffed out his cheeks and roared, and directly used his strength to eat.

"Gaba!"

With a crisp sound of bones breaking, Yevre's expression directly distorted, and he let out a scream.

"Ahh

Nanfeng immediately let go of his hand, but Yevre was already clutching his wrist and was unable to speak.

His apprentices immediately gathered nervously around him.

"Master, what's wrong with you?"

Nanfeng quietly took a few steps back, rubbed his arm that was a little sore due to too much force, and quickly slipped away.

As he left the rest area where Gävre was, he was stopped by the guards of the Royal Order.

"Ordinary spectators are not allowed to enter the players' rest area, how did you kid sneak in?"

Nanfeng apologized again and again.

"I'm sorry, I made a mistake just now, I'm someone else's group of relatives and friends, and my friend is in another area."

.....

.....

After 10 minutes.

The south wind ran back in a hurry.

Seeing Nanfeng coming back, Xia Feng immediately asked.

"Well, it's done, it's my turn to play later."

Nanfeng first took a sip of his drink, then rubbed his arm and said.

"Don't worry, it's all done, that old guy's wrist will be broken by me with a gack."

When Nanfeng came back, he made everything clear.

Xia Feng nodded in satisfaction.

"Yes, enough damage."

Nanfeng rubbed his arm and said.

"What's the loss, buddy, I'm doing this with real skills, should I say it or not, that old guy's strength is really big, and my own arm is about to break."

Xia Feng knew that Nanfeng was the orthodox royal family of Victoria, and he had inherited the [power] in the bloodline of the previous king, and he could be called a person with great strength, and that Master Yevre really had two sons.

Nanfeng sat next to Xia Feng.

"This may be the last time I help you, this time I sneaked into someone's rest area, and now those guards remember me, next time you can only rely on yourself."

"No problem."

Xia Feng knew that this time could only be regarded as lucky, but not everyone was as good-looking as Yevre.

....

Nanfeng didn't use any yin tricks, and completely broke Master Yevre's wrist in a fair and honest manner, which Yevre himself knew well.

Of course, he was not embarrassed to speak out, and he agreed to wrestle his wrists, isn't it a shame to say it.

...

The third game starts immediately.

In the ring, Yevre held one hand behind his back, holding a sword in his left hand and pretending to be calm.

Xia Feng asked pretendedly.

"Yo, master, I didn't think you were left-handed, did you deliberately let me?"

"Less nonsense, beating a layman like you, the old man's one hand is enough."

Maestro Gèvr said with confidence, but it turned out that one hand was not enough, and of course, in the course of the game, he himself found that one hand was really not enough, but there was nothing he could do.

The summer breeze can only make one move, but this trick is like the autumn wind and falling leaves, as fast as a rainstorm and lightning.

Yevre was obviously not used to using a sword in his left hand, coupled with the pain in his wrist, which greatly reduced his overall strength, and the two swords clashed, Xia Feng's figure flashed, forcing him to the right side.

"Poof!"

The Shenyue Knife brought out a blood mark.

Yèvr gritted his teeth and fought back, but the summer breeze continued to flash to the right like a loach.

"Poof!" Burst! "Poof!"

After a few rounds, Yevre was covered in bruises, and although it was not fatal, the victory or defeat was already obvious.

In desperation, an unwilling voice came out of his mouth.

"I.... I throw in the towel. ”

.....

Yevre is one of the strongest candidates for the championship in Xia Feng's group, and after eliminating him, the next game became relatively simple, Xia Feng passed five levels and killed six generals, and finally rushed to the top 16 in the morning.

Afternoon.

Xia Feng's focus on several players were perfectly staggered, and he moved out all his overt and secret moves, and miraculously blended into the quarterfinals amid the cheering voices of Turtle and Ansel.

However, he was not unscathed, and in the afternoon he also met a folk master, and although he won in the end, he was cut into a deep wound in his left arm.

...

After the game was over, Xia Feng sat on a chair and gritted his teeth, holding gauze to firmly wrap the entire injured left arm.

Du Wei watched from the sidelines, and his heart was pounding.

"Xia Feng, don't you need stitches here?"

"No, you don't."

"Don't compare it when it's all like this, don't lose your life at that time."

Xia Feng's head was sweating, but he still squeezed out an indifferent smile.

"It's okay, minor injury."

....

Now he can't afford to make a mistake, the quarterfinals have been decided, tomorrow is the semi-finals, and his margin for error is getting lower and lower.

At dusk, the names of the top eight players were officially announced, which were.

Tailin, Scati, Pete, Xia Feng, Xiao Yunye, Erzhuzi, East Burial, Hela.

That's right, both Franka and Sanwa were eliminated, and Grani didn't know at what stage they were gone.

Sanwa lost to Scati, and although she fought for a while, she was eventually swept off the field by a sword.

Franca, on the other hand, lost to the East Burial and was also slightly injured.