The opponent was using the power of his magic tool, attempting a classic lion-strikes-rabbit, sure-kill move. Naturally, he needed to withstand the first wave of attack.
Seeing that Wang Yuan remained silent.
Lu Rong sneered coldly, once again raising the smoke gun to his lips.
"I wonder how many times a beginner like you in the Foundation Establishment generation can use the power of a magic tool!"
Saying so.
He took a deep draw, and the tobacco in the pipe began to burn fiercely.
The previously restored smoke gun once more turned red-hot.
Witnessing this familiar scene, Wang Yuan's expression grew stern.
He took several steps in mid-air.
Each step spanning a distance of ten meters.
Lu Rong looked on with a cold chuckle.
A futile effort!
Just wait for your death!
With a puff from his mouth, another red ball of energy shot out.
Wang Yuan stopped in his tracks; the attack speed of the smoke gun was simply too fast for him to evade at his current speed.