Huang Rong from The Return of the Condor Heroes: Brother Jing, let's get a divorce.

The courtyard was silent except for the howling wind blowing through the dilapidated walls.

The Golden Wheel Dharma King stopped turning the prayer beads and looked down at his right palm.

A trace of heat lingered in his palm. The punch Yang Guo had just thrown was incredibly powerful and unparalleled, following an extremely domineering path, and was definitely not the righteous and peaceful internal energy of the Quanzhen Sect.

News travels slowly in the desert, and the Golden Wheel Monk knew little about the rising stars of the Central Plains martial arts world, only that Guo Jing's Eighteen Subduing Dragon Palms were unparalleled.

Yang Guo's punch just now left him completely bewildered.

If this young man is truly at the fifth level of the Dragon Elephant Prajna Skill, and if he launches a strong attack today, even if our side wins, we will lose most of our men.

"Master, this little beast is putting on airs!" Huo Du stepped forward, twirling his short sword.

"Zhao Zhijing would never dare to lie to us. That punch he just delivered must have used some evil technique that depletes his life essence; he's probably just an empty shell now. Let my disciple go and take his head!"

Huo Du was eager to show off his achievements to his master. Now that all the masters of the Quanzhen Sect had been wiped out, the young sect leader who was seriously injured was the best stepping stone for him to establish his authority.

The Golden Wheel Monk did not speak, but simply took half a step back, which was tacit consent.

He is cautious by nature, so it is naturally a good thing that someone is willing to test the waters.

Yang Guo stood on the steps, his right arm hanging naturally, the wide sleeves of his Taoist robe swaying gently in the night breeze.

The three broken ribs in his chest were constantly rubbing against his flesh with each breath, and each gasp brought excruciating pain.

Having just forced out Hong Qigong's palm strike, the meridians in his right arm were completely damaged, and now he can't even lift a finger.

But he still stood very straight.

"You want to bet with me?" Yang Guo turned his head to look at Huo Du, a mocking smile playing on his lips. "Who do you think you are? If I beat you, do you think the Mongol army will retreat?"

Huo Du's face was ashen, his short sword pointed directly at Yang Guo's nose: "Killing you is a piece of cake for me!"

"Alright." Yang Guo turned to Jinlun Fawang, "Grand Preceptor, your disciple will fight in your place. If he can't even withstand one move from me, will you all leave?"

The Golden Wheel Monk clasped his hands together and said, "A monk does not lie. If Huo Du is defeated, this old monk will not set foot in Chongyang Palace today."

Yang Guo nodded and stretched out his left hand behind him: "Wushuang, lend me your sword."

Lu Wushuang stood inside the room, her hands tightly gripping the willow-leaf scimitar, her palms already drenched in sweat.

Upon hearing Yang Guo's words, she did not hesitate at all and immediately stepped forward to hand the hilt of the knife to Yang Guo's left hand.

The blade was thin and light, and a glint of cold light shone on Yang Guo's pale face.

Huang Rong stood at the bottom of the steps, her fingers gripping the bamboo joint tightly as she held the Dog-Beating Stick.

She knew all too well Yang Guo's current physical condition.

With his internal energy depleted and his right arm crippled, let alone a top-tier expert like Huo Du, even an ordinary Mongol soldier could easily take Yang Guo's life at this moment.

She secretly regulated her breathing, preparing to fight desperately at any moment.

Huo Du suddenly exerted force with his feet, and a shallow pit was actually created in the bluestone slab.

He moved with lightning speed, the folding fan somehow switched to his left hand, his right hand wielding a short sword aimed straight for Yang Guo's throat, while his left hand simultaneously unfolded the folding fan, completely blocking Yang Guo's escape route.

This move was ruthless and vicious, leaving absolutely no room for maneuver.

Yang Guo did not retreat. He had no strength left to use his lightness skill, nor could he mobilize any internal energy.

Just as Huo Du lunged to within three feet of him, Yang Guo did not parry with his sword. Instead, he leaned to the left and forward in an extremely strange manner, directly crashing into Huo Du's short sword.

Huo Du's eyes widened, and the tip of his short sword was less than half an inch from Yang Guo's throat.

In that mere half-inch, Yang Guo suddenly twisted his left wrist.

The willow-leaf scimitar did not slash; instead, with the back of the blade facing upwards, it struck the spine of the short sword with perfect precision.

"Ding!"

A crisp sound was heard.

Although Yang Guo lacked internal energy, he cleverly borrowed the force of Huo Du's forward charge.

The "Secret Techniques for Releasing Acupoints" recorded in the Nine Yin Manual not only release acupoints, but also contain extremely profound techniques for generating power through human joints.

The strike landed precisely on the weakest point of the short sword.

Huo Du felt a numbness in his wrist, and the short sword instantly changed direction, grazing Yang Guo's right cheek before missing its mark.

The momentum from the short sword missing its target caused Huo Du's body to lurch forward uncontrollably.

Yang Guo had been waiting for this moment!

He suddenly raised his left knee and slammed it hard into Huo Du's left wrist, causing the folding fan to fly out of his hand.

Immediately afterwards, Yang Guo loosened his grip on the hilt with his left hand, and the willow-leaf curved blade fell straight down from mid-air.

Yang Guo turned his left hand into a palm, then into a claw, and gripped Huo Du's throat tightly.

The Nine Yin White Bone Claw's finger force is extremely domineering. Even without internal force, the finger force of external hard skills alone is enough to crush an ordinary person's throat.

Huo Du was terrified and was about to cry for help when Yang Guo suddenly exerted force with his left hand.

With a sudden tightening of his fingers, he forcefully lifted Huo Du's over 100-pound body off the ground.

At that moment, the falling willow-leaf scimitar landed right at Yang Guo's waist.

Yang Guo slightly bent his left leg and used his knee to catch the blade and bounce it upwards.

The curved blade sprang up instantly. Yang Guo, holding Huo Du in his left hand, flicked his wrist, and the hilt of the blade landed steadily in his hand.

The sharp blade was held across Huo Du's neck, instantly slicing through a layer of skin, and trickles of blood seeped out.

The whole process happened in the blink of an eye.

There was no booming sound of colliding true energy, nor any dazzling light and shadow, only extremely precise use of force against force and extremely ruthless dismantling of moves.

Two moves.

From the moment Huo Du drew his sword to the moment he was completely subdued by Yang Guo, it only took two moves!

The courtyard was completely silent; the hands of the Mongol soldiers holding their spears were trembling uncontrollably.

Huang Rong let out a long breath, her tense back already soaked with cold sweat.

She understood Yang Guo's tactics; it was a pure crushing defeat based on martial arts skill, killing with his brain.

Yang Guo, carrying Huo Du, turned to look at the Golden Wheel Monk.

"Grand Preceptor, your disciple has lost." Yang Guo's voice was hoarse, and every word he uttered was accompanied by a sharp pain in his lungs.

Huo Du had his throat gripped, his face turning purplish-red. He desperately pried at Yang Guo's arm with both hands, while his legs kicked helplessly in mid-air.

The Golden Wheel Monk watched this scene without showing any anger on his face.

His eyes were sharp as he carefully scanned Yang Guo from head to toe.

Although Yang Guo's movements in subduing Huo Du were extremely skillful, Jinlun Fawang saw it clearly: Yang Guo did not use any internal force at all.

Moreover, Yang Guo's right arm remained limply at his side throughout the entire process, and even during the most dangerous evasive maneuvers, his right arm did not reflexively raise at all.

This is completely illogical.

A master with five levels of Dragon Elephant Prajna internal energy would never completely refrain from using internal energy during a life-or-death struggle.

"Amitabha." The Golden Wheel Monk clasped his hands together and chanted a Buddhist prayer. "Master Yang's moves are exquisite, I admire them. However, my disciple is not skilled enough and has disgraced Mongolia. As the National Preceptor, I should avenge the Great Khan."

It is clear that the Golden Wheel Monk has no intention of withdrawing his troops.

He had concluded that Yang Guo's punch just now was definitely some kind of secret technique that could not be used continuously, and that Yang Guo was now a useless person without internal energy.

Yang Guo casually tossed Huo Du with his left hand, throwing him like a broken sack towards the Mongol soldiers.

Several armored soldiers hurriedly caught Huo Du, who knelt on the ground, clutching his neck and panting heavily. He didn't even dare to look at Yang Guo again.

"Is the Imperial Advisor going to break the contract?" Yang Guo gripped his willow-leaf scimitar tightly, the tip pointing diagonally at the ground.

"I have said that I will not set foot in Chongyang Palace. But you are the leader of Quanzhen Sect. If I spare your life, you will surely become a great threat in the future. Even if I have to give up this empty title today, I will eliminate this future threat for the Great Khan."

After speaking, the Golden Wheel Dharma King removed the five wheels from his back. The five metal wheels, made of gold, silver, copper, iron, and lead, of different sizes, collided repeatedly between his hands, producing a series of ear-piercing friction sounds.

"You withstood one of my disciple's moves, and I will only make three moves today. If you can withstand them, I will immediately retreat," the Golden Wheel Monk said calmly. He intended to personally intervene and completely crush this troublesome young man before him.

Huang Rong suddenly took two steps forward, holding her Dog-Beating Stick horizontally in front of her chest, and angrily rebuked, "How dare the Imperial Preceptor go back on his word! Aren't you afraid of being ridiculed by the world?!"

"The victor is king. After the Central Plains martial arts world is destroyed, who in this world will dare to ridicule this old monk?" The Golden Wheel Monk slowly opened his hands.

The internal energy of the Dragon Elephant Prajna Skill erupted without reservation.

The air in the courtyard instantly became extremely stuffy, and the flying dust was forcefully pressed to the ground by this terrifying aura.

Five wheels flew out of his hands, spinning rapidly in mid-air, accompanied by a series of sharp whistling sounds.

These five wheels, coming from five different directions, completely blocked all of Yang Guo's escape routes. The gold wheel attacked from above, the silver wheel attacked from below, the bronze and iron wheels locked down on both sides, and the heaviest lead wheel smashed straight at Yang Guo's chest.

There are no fancy moves, only overwhelming power.

Yang Guo stared intently at the five flying wheels, the veins on the back of his left hand, which was gripping the knife, bulging.

He couldn't dodge it at all. Without the support of internal energy, he couldn't even move his feet as fast as the wheels were flying.

Now that his right arm is useless, his left hand is only holding a thin, light, curved knife, which is no match for the fierce impact of such a heavy weapon.

Huang Rong shouted and swung her dog-beating stick at the lead wheel in mid-air, but she was too far away and it was too late.

Lu Wushuang rushed out of the room without a care, spreading her arms to try and block Yang Guo.

Yang Guo swung his left hand sharply, the blade slamming heavily onto Lu Wushuang's shoulder, knocking her to the ground.

He took a deep breath as he watched the lead wheel hurtling towards him, and his broken ribs made a cracking sound as if they were about to burst under the weight.

Just as the lead wheel was less than half a foot away from Yang Guo's face, a clear whistle suddenly came from behind the courtyard.

A white figure leaped over the dilapidated courtyard wall, soaring through the air like a startled swan to Yang Guo's side.

The figure was incredibly fast, leaving an afterimage in mid-air.

With a gentle roll of her white sleeves, an extremely chilling aura instantly swept across the entire area.

"Ding ding ding ding ding!"

Five consecutive, extremely dense, crisp sounds rang out.

The five metal wheels, carrying immense force, were abruptly stopped in mid-air by this chilling true energy, spinning endlessly and unable to advance even an inch.

The white figure landed steadily in front of Yang Guo.

The newcomer was dressed in white, with long hair flowing down his shoulders. His exquisitely beautiful face was expressionless, and his skin was so pale it was almost transparent.

"Who dares to touch him?"

An extremely cold voice slowly echoed through the courtyard.

Looking at the familiar back that was blocking his way, Yang Guo's tense nerves finally relaxed completely.

He could no longer hold on; his left hand limply loosened its grip on the knife handle, and his body fell straight backward.

"Sister Long..." Yang Guo felt a darkness before his eyes, and he forced himself to grit his teeth and endure it so that he would not completely faint.