Lu Mingfei, the Martial Saint of the Dragon Clan

Jumping from dojo to dojo.

What remains unchanged is the boy.

Sometimes he faced four or five people, sometimes more than ten.

No defeat.

Especially the fight between a young man and a round-faced girl. Judging from the muscle condition, their strength level is only that of ordinary people.

But to put it bluntly, the skills they displayed were inferior to at least one-third of the students on the Kassel campus.

Even though it’s only one-third, what is this place? The highest university in a mixed-race society in the world. The professors teach dragon slaying every day in class. In the eyes of the equipment department, the Great Ivan of the former Soviet Union is nothing more than a piece of shit used by Chinese children during the Spring Festival. If you are not an absolute elite, let alone step into the door of Kassel, you are not even qualified to hear about Kassel.

Therefore, the vice-principal judged that the boy and girl surpassed one-third of the students in Kassel, which was really a high praise.

But so what.

he thought.

No matter how outstanding his martial arts skills are, without igniting the Golden Eyes and the Spirit of Speech, he will be nothing but dust in the world of hybrids and dragons.

The scene ended up on the roadside where dirt was being picked up. The young man smashed a beer bottle on a gangster's head easily and freely. The man fell to the ground bleeding, and the young man discussed Xingye's movie with another gangster.

The vice-principal felt a chill in his heart for no reason.

Damn, it's just a kid.

he said to himself.

After finishing playing, the TV returned to the standby interface. The blue fluorescent light illuminated Ange's old face in half-light, making the vice-principal's attempt to judge his old friend's thoughts based on his face in vain.

"Aha."

The vice principal laughed funnyly.

"Look what this is. Is it the latest Kung Fu movie? Let me think about it. Let me think about it."

"That's right, Bruce Lee!"

He twisted his body on the sofa, performed the kung fu superstar's signature moves, and imitated the other man's war cry.

After that, the vice-principal winked at Angers and laughed.

"He is Lu Mingfei."

Angers said.

The vice-principal slowly withdrew his hand, his funny expression disappeared, and a touch of majesty appeared on his funny face.

"Oh, is this kid that old already?"

"I remember that Norma would send you Lu Mingfei's growth report every year."

"I did not see."

The vice-principal waved his hand confidently.

Angkor nodded. He already knew the temper of his old man and didn't care.

"You also know the bloodline of his parents, two outstanding S-class people. When this child was born, we all thought that the child would be a cephalosaur, comparable to a fourth- or even third-generation species."

The vice principal answered.

"I still remember the way dear little Giovanni said he was my child."

"What a strong and beautiful girl."

"By the way, old man, that boy from Lulin City is really like a cowboy, isn't he? He was so cool when he said that if a dragon was born, I would blow up the whole family. Do you still remember, for the sake of truth? For the sake of it, I hope the flames of revenge haven’t burned your brain out.”

The vice-principal hugged his belly and burst into laughter, spewing out the unpleasant smell of alcohol that could be clearly smelled even by Ange on the other side of the room.

"Let's put the memories aside for now."

Angers said.

"Lu Mingfei was born eighteen years ago and showed no abnormalities, so we sent him an invitation to enroll, and the child agreed two days ago."

The vice principal clapped his hands.

"Excellent!"

"Our Principal Angers has added another great hero to his great dragon-slaying career. Why don't you open a bottle of champagne to celebrate!"

"Celebrating?"

Angre pondered and lowered his eyes slightly, making it difficult for people to see his eyes clearly.

The first lesson a lion cub learns in order to hunt for a lock is not how to hunt, nor how to fight and bite.

But to hide murderous intent.

They were born kings, and the memory of killing was at its peak, and no more training was needed.

All that is needed is to hide, hide the murderous intent and claws, and pretend to be a warm and cute big cat until the prey puts down its guard, and then cuts the throat with its sharp claws.

Angers is a liger.

I don't know when a folding knife appeared in his hand. The vice-principal narrowed his eyes. He stared at the unfolded folding knife flying between the fingers of the legendary dragon slayer like a butterfly through flowers, but it never hurt the man at all.

What a terrifying control.

he thinks.

Several times, the vice-principal had the urge to open a special subject, using Angers as a model to explore the impact of spiritual will on the body.

After all, this is a guy who can still charge into the battlefield with a folding knife until he is one hundred and thirty years old for revenge.

No matter how pure the dragon blood in the body is, there are only a few people who can trace back thousands of years of history to the level of Angers before crossing the critical blood line.

Neither genealogy nor alchemy can explain the existence of Angers.

He is too old.

And yet someone so old is still so powerful.

It's incredible.

The vice-principal thought for a long time, and finally he could only think that it was revenge.

The white-haired old man in front of him, because of revenge, stayed forever on the day when the first Lionheart Society was destroyed. He was trapped in Cassel Manor in that midsummer and could not get out. He walked in this world like a ghost, just for the sake of revenge. revenge.

It is precisely because of this that Ange has been wearing a black suit for decades, solemnly like mourning clothes, and this is exactly the mourning clothes. He is always ready to send dragons back to their graves.

"What are you hesitating about?"

the vice-chancellor asked.

The jackknife flew in a dizzying manner.

Angers still had a calm face.

"I do not know who he is."

The vice principal raised an eyebrow.

"Who else could it be?"

"You perverts have been monitoring my children for eighteen years!"

"The first time he went to an Internet cafe, the first time he skipped school, the first time he liked a girl, and even the first time he woke up and secretly washed his underwear, you all know it clearly."

"You're still asking me who he is?"

The vice principal waved his arms exaggeratedly, like Bulbasaur using the vine move.

"My dear old fellow!"

"Have you forgotten what you just said?" The vice-principal exaggeratedly imitated Angers' demeanor and said slowly.

"He is Lu Mingfei."

The hut fell into a long silence.

Only the light reflected from the folding knife occasionally streaked across the wooden wall, as cold as the reflection on the Alaskan snowfields in winter.

Suddenly, Ange read an article in fluent Chinese.

"In the Taiyuan Dynasty of the Jin Dynasty, people in Wulin made fishing their main occupation. They were walking along a stream, forgetting the distance of the road. Suddenly they came across a peach blossom forest, hundreds of steps along the bank. There were no stray trees in the middle, the grass was delicious and the fallen flowers were colorful."

The vice-principal twisted.

"What, the principal is going to give me a Chinese lesson for this old man. Appreciation of ancient prose, I know, I know, Peach Blossom Spring. My Chinese teacher was full of praise, saying that it is the spiritual home of the Chinese people for thousands of years, just like the Garden of Eden. Similar."

"Then did your teacher say anything?"

Angers smiled softly.

"Like the Nibelungs too."

The vice principal's face darkened.

Nibelungen.

No one could understand how important this word was to an alchemist.

The vice-principal is a master alchemist and the pinnacle of contemporary Western alchemy.

Of course, the reason why we emphasize the West is because no one knows how terrifying monsters there are in that land in the East.

Yes, monster.

"Peach Blossom Spring."

The vice-principal chewed the word carefully, as if he could taste the fragrance and beauty of truth from it.