The Legend of the Condor Heroes: Starting from the Bodyguard

Chapter 251 Sending the Buddha to the Western Paradise

As they drew closer, Zhou Yan and Hu Yanlei came into view of more than ten people, including monks, laymen, and Taoists, each with a different posture. Their bodies were covered in brown blood, indicating that they had been dead for some time.

The two dismounted, and Zhou Yan inspected a nearby monk.

He couldn't find a certificate to verify the monk's identity, but the fatal injuries made his eyes turn cold. The monk, who was in his thirties, had all the joints of his limbs broken, including his knees, elbows, ankles, and wrists.

"Vajra Finger?" Zhou Yan checked them one by one, and saw three more monks with broken hands and feet. The remaining two monks died from weapons, and several Taoists and laymen were killed by fist and foot techniques.

Huyan Lei: "There are still survivors; there are footprints here."

Zhou Yan got up and looked. The messy footprints stretched from the valley to the sand dunes in the southwest, disappearing into the yellow sand after more than ten steps.

With a neigh, the Charcoal Dragon Steed appeared on the sand ridge behind Zhou Yan, and Zhang Wangyue spurred his horse down.

"What's going on?" Zhang Wangyue dismounted when he reached the valley.

Zhou Yan said, "I don't know the specifics, but several monks had broken joints in their limbs and did not have ordination certificates on them."

Zhang Wangyue squatted down to examine a corpse, frowning as he said, "The perpetrator was skilled in finger techniques."

Zhou Yan suddenly asked, "Could these monks be from the Shaolin Temple in the Western Regions?"

"How so?" Zhang Wangyue asked.

"When Abbot Kucheng was at Shaolin Temple, he said he would arrange for people to go to Shaolin Temple in the Western Regions to discuss how to deal with Huogong Toutuo. Is it possible that these monks were the ones who rushed to Shaolin Temple to help, but were intercepted and killed by the Vajra Sect and the martial arts world of the Western Regions?"

Zhang Wangyue recalled Zhou Yan's mention of encountering Master Tiancong of the Western Shaolin Temple being surrounded and killed by the Vajra Sect outside Wuwei.

"Makes sense."

"I'll take another look," Zhou Yan said.

Zhang Wangyue said, "Have Escort Mu take some men with him."

“Alright, Chief Escort can head to Ten Thousand Beasts Manor first.”

"it is good!"

Zhang Wangyue mounted his horse, and the Charcoal Dragon Steed galloped up the sand dune and disappeared on one side of the sand ridge. Not long after, Mu Nianci arrived on horseback with eight bodyguards.

Zhou Yan and Hu Yanlei mounted their horses, and the group opened a fan-shaped area to search in the direction where the scattered footprints disappeared.

……

As dusk fell in late spring, the temperature in the desert and Gobi gradually dropped, but the fierce and bloody battle raged on like boiling water.

Thirty or forty men, armed with knives and weapons, with ferocious faces, roared like bloodthirsty beasts, hysterical and terrifying to behold.

"Ku Hui, you can't leave now."

"First, kill Tianlong and Tianxiang."

"Anqingzi greets you."

The sounds of clashing weapons and countless shouts mingled together.

Master Tianlong, the abbot of the Bodhidharma Hall of the Shaolin Temple in the Western Regions, moved like an arrow, leaping out from the sand. Several martial artists from the Western Regions surrounded and attacked him.

The blood-stained, filthy monk's robes on Zen Master Tianlong suddenly trembled, and his inner strength propelled his sleeves, smashing the incoming darts, bone-piercing nails, and flying stones in all directions with a series of booming sounds. Then, his entire body seemed to transform into a phantom as he rushed into the crowd, the sounds of weapons breaking and bones shattering echoing eerily.

A swordsman suddenly appeared above Zen Master Tianlong, his sword flashing like lightning. To his left, a large spear whistled and thrust forward.

Zen Master Tianlong seemed to transform into a roaring gray dragon, its shadow soaring through the air. With a flick of its left arm, it smashed the steel knife away, while its right hand gripped the swordsman's face with its five fingers. With a "plop," the swordsman's face was torn off by the Zen Master's "dragon claw hand."

"Ah!" With a hysterical scream, the swordsman crashed to the ground and rolled around.

Zen Master Tianlong stood firmly on his feet as several people attacked him. A large spear thrust out with a whoosh and then retracted like a phantom, leaving a trail of blood on his waist.

"Blood has been drawn! Kill!" The man who had stabbed Zen Master Tianlong shouted excitedly, and more people surrounded Zen Master Tianlong.

"Take the abbot away!" Zen Master Tianlong shouted.

Zen Master Tianxiang led Ku Hui and the others to retreat deeper into the sand valley. After only a hundred steps or so, a burly figure emerged from the ridge on the left.

"Amitabha Buddha, where are you going?"

As the sun began to set, the clouds on the horizon resembled blazing bonfires. A figure in a yellow monk's robe charged towards the valley like a Vajra, chanting Buddhist prayers that echoed like the tide. Master Tianxiang's heart skipped a beat; it was the Vajra Sect's monk Baoxian—a perilous situation.

On the other side of the mountain ridge, unnoticed by the head of the Arhat Hall of the Shaolin Temple in the Western Regions, a figure on horseback emerged, followed closely by a second, a third...

……

Zhou Yan, Hu Yanlei, and Mu Nianci arrived after searching, first hearing a shrill scream, followed by Bao Xian's thunderous voice.

He spurred his horse up the hill and saw a scene of fierce fighting.

"It's a bit hard to tell who's friend and who's foe," Mu Nianci said, watching the monks fight each other.

“It’s hard to distinguish between monks and laymen, but the two are definitely enemies,” Huyan Lei said.

“That’s right, be careful to distinguish.” As soon as Zhou Yan finished speaking, his figure flew out and rushed towards the valley. At first, he was only a dozen feet away, and the dust under his feet did not disturb the sand. But after another dozen feet, the yellow sand under his feet rolled and roared, as if a huge yellow dragon dozens of feet long was roaring behind him.

The magnificent scene attracted the attention of both sides fighting in the sand dune. Bao Xian, who was running wildly from the other side of the sand dune, suddenly stopped. He watched for a few moments, and his face suddenly became ferocious.

"It was Zhou Yan who ruined Master's plans at Shaoshi Mountain."

"You scoundrel Zhou, I'll take your life!"

"Ha, it's Baoxian, just in time to send the Buddha to the Western Paradise."

The two engaged in a fierce verbal battle, their momentum undiminished, as two large yellow tornadoes of sand converged towards the valley.

Zhou Yan arrived first. A swordsman in front of him unleashed a swift and powerful slash. Zhou Yan swayed slightly to avoid the fierce attack, grabbed the man's neck with his right hand, and snatched the sword with his left. Without stopping, he pushed the man backward, sending him flying towards the oncoming swordsmen.

Zhou Yan walked straight ahead, his long sword slashing violently several times, and three burly martial arts men from the Western Regions rolled away, blood spurting from their bodies.

"Stop being arrogant!" The burly man who had previously stabbed Zen Master Tianlong charged forward with his spear. Zhou Yan met the spearhead head-on, his steel blade slashing down along the shaft of the spear. The blade severed the man's hands, and blood splattered everywhere.

Zhou Yan's blade didn't stop, slashing into another man. Without drawing his sword, he flicked his right foot, and the butt of the spear that had fallen to the ground appeared in his hand. Immediately afterward, the spearhead suddenly leaped up from the ground like a dead snake coming back to life.

"Take this!" A Taoist priest lunged forward with his sword, thrusting forward with a flick of his wrist. The sword flashed like lightning, but the next moment the Taoist priest crashed into a leaping spear, the gleaming spearhead severing his throat.

Zhou Yan didn't stop, thrusting his spear east and west, and in an instant, three swordsmen who had rushed over rolled on the sand, their bodies convulsing and quickly becoming unresponsive.

Behind Zhou Yan, Hu Yanlei and Mu Nianci wielded their spears like rain, attacking the ranks of the Western Region martial arts practitioners. Two skilled archers drew their bows and arrows as they closed in, while the remaining archers quickly formed two killing formations, and fishing nets, limestone, and hidden weapons exploded.

"Give me your life!"

In front of Shaolin Temple on Mount Song, the monk Bao Xian, who had never fought Zhou Yan before, swelled up like a Vajra, exhaled sharply, and his arm muscles suddenly bulged. He then drew a semi-circle with each palm and rushed forward to meet Zhou Yan.

On that day, Zhou Yan learned the opponent's palm technique after Master Kucheng explained the Shaolin Temple's unique skills at Shaoshi Mountain.

"What can the 'Vajra Palm' do to me?"

Zhou Yan's envoy "shocked the entire region" by pushing his palms out horizontally.

The Vajra Palm and the Eighteen Subduing Dragon Palms, the two most powerful and unparalleled martial arts in the world, collided with each other like a raging tide.

With a deafening roar, the air around the two men seemed to collapse, forming a vortex with rapidly surging air currents, sending sand and stones flying from the ground.

Zhou Yan swayed, feeling numbness in his arm, stagnation of internal energy, and surging blood. He was shocked; the martial arts skills of the second disciple of the Fire-Worker Monk were extraordinary, far surpassing those of Bao Shou, whom he had previously fought. He was not to be underestimated.

With that thought, he exhaled a breath of stale air, then gathered his inner energy, and immediately felt refreshed and full of vitality.

"Let's see how many blows you can take."

Zhou Yan suddenly separated his palms, pointing diagonally to the left and right, then quickly brought them together and pushed them out. A burst of fierce force surged out with the force of his palms coming together, and the "Dragon Fighting in the Wild" move from the Eighteen Subduing Dragon Palms was pushed towards his opponent.

Bao Xian pounced like a falcon, sneering repeatedly, "Zhou thief, however many blows you send, this Buddha will take them all."

In the blink of an eye, Zhou Yan and Bao Xian struck out with their palms, creating a series of muffled sounds like drumming in the air. Their figures moved like grinding wheels, raising clouds of dust wherever they went. The force of their attacks rubbed against the air, generating an unusual heat, while sharp whistles pierced everyone's eardrums, causing a stinging pain like needles.

Suddenly, there was a loud, booming sound in the air.

Bao Xian suddenly shrank his body, his cassock seemed to form a vortex and caved in. After taking more than forty blows from Zhou Yan, Bao Xian's huge robe sleeves fluttered loudly, and then he flew three or four zhang away before turning around and running away.

With Baoxian's escape, his followers scattered like leaves in the wind.

(End of this chapter)