Chapter 1139 - Auction House (7) (1/2)

Dyon's blood seemed to roar, causing Fist King's eyes to light up.

He looked like the king of a mountain, looking down on the world with just his fists to rely on.

A brown essence coated Dyon's fists as it slammed into his nearest enemy.

PU

The eerie sound of human life becoming a fountain of blood filled the crumbled auction house.

'This is how a man should be!' The Fist King spoke silently to himself. 'Ruling the world with nothing but the fists he was born with!'

If those of the Fist King's life knew that he was praising a junior using a mere lower common level technique, they might die in shock. But, despite the fact Dyon had only just stepped into the initial stage, his bearing was comparable to a man who wanted to rule the world with his fists, immediately gaining the Fist King's respect.

The truth was that Dyon wasn't so passionate about fist techniques, or any techniques, for that matter. There was only one thing he had in mind: to arrogantly stare down at the world from the heavens, no matter what technique it was that used.

His eyes continued to shine a blinding gold as his leg swung forward.

A cloud of wispy smoke trailed Dyon's kick as yet another head burst into a gory shower of blood.

Dyon body burst through the skies, disappearing and appearing at will…

Every disappearance dodged seemingly impossible to escape situations while every appearance resulted in a death.

[Sweeping the Clouds with One Leg] was a kicking technique with only a single form, a high kick sweeping forward with the majesty of the skies. However, Dyon delved right into the essence of it immediately as his mind comprehended more and more.

'What does it mean to sweep the clouds… It means being able to destroy something weightless with a thought, to make the formless bend to your will, to shatter what shouldn't be shattered…'

Dyon's thought were becoming more profound than even what the creator intended even as his movement technique seamlessly stepped into the completion stage, shocking his master to no end.

[Overbearing Mountain Bear Fists] was yet another technique that took its title very seriously. To be overbearing, to rule over a mountain, to have the power of a Bear.

Dyon's fists shattered through the initial success stage, climbing to the small success stage as the mighty roar of a Bear broke through the skies.

Fists and kicks rained downward, switching from one to another with ease.

The brown essence coating Dyon's fists became more refined, growing in l.u.s.ter and gaining an added sheen.

Dyon became a devilish nightmare for the essence gatherers, however he continued to use the saints to circulate and improve his movement technique.

To others though, it looked as though he wasn't confident in defeating them, so he avoided them, picking on the weak.