The Return of the Condor Heroes: Starting with a Suicide Note and Conquering All Realms

The tip of the sword was only three inches away from Huo Du's throat.

Huo Du's smile froze.

He slammed his folding fan shut, the fan ribs blocking the attack.

"clang!"

The sword struck the fan ribs, sparks flying.

Huo Du used the momentum to retreat three steps, then rolled up his sleeves, forcefully deflecting the sword force to his feet.

Several fine cracks appeared in the bluestone slab.

He looked up at Yang Guo, and the contempt in his eyes lessened by a third.

Something's off about this kid.

Too fast.

The sword technique is also incorrect.

Unlike the Quanzhen School, unlike the Ancient Tomb School, and unlike Guo Jing's disciples.

Huo Du narrowed his eyes, but his gaze passed over Yang Guo and landed on Xiaolongnu.

The woman in white stood behind Lin Yuan, her expression calm, her long sword still sheathed.

Huo Du's lips curled up again.

"I see."

He opened his folding fan, his laughter light and frivolous.

"Fighting for their master? The martial arts world of the Central Plains is truly fascinating. A disciple protects his master, and in the process, it ends up in his bed?"

The drill ground fell silent instantly.

Guo Jing's face darkened.

Huang Rong's eyes suddenly turned cold.

Xiaolongnu didn't speak, she just looked at Yang Guo.

Yang Guo stood still.

He slowly loosened his grip on the sword with his right hand.

Clang.

The longsword fell to the ground.

Huo Du was taken aback.

"What? I was right, you can't even hold a sword properly?"

Yang Guo raised his head.

There was no roar in his eyes, nor any explanation.

Only murderous intent.

He took a step forward.

Lin Yuan stood behind, arms crossed, and said calmly, "Guo'er."

Yang Guo paused in his steps.

Lin Yuan looked at Huo Du, his tone flat.

"Don't kill too quickly."

Yang Guo nodded.

"clear."

Huo Du's face darkened.

"Playing tricks!"

With a stomp of his foot, he shot out like a gust of wind.

Gale and Thunder Technique!

The fan-shaped shadow exploded in mid-air, so fast that only a bluish-white afterglow remained.

Huo Du's move was aimed directly at Yang Guo's face.

The internal force of the fan bone is sharp; if it strikes the temple, it can shatter the brain on the spot.

Some of the heroes in the Central Plains exclaimed in surprise.

"So fast!"

"This Mongol prince is quite skilled in martial arts!"

Guo Jing subconsciously took half a step forward.

Huang Rong reached out to stop him.

"Look at Lin Yuan."

Guo Jing looked over.

Lin Yuan stood still, without even raising an eyebrow.

next moment.

Yang Guo made a move.

He did not back down.

With a quick slide of his toes across the ground, his body passed through the edge of the fan's shadow.

The ancient tomb's light-foot technique is known for its unpredictability.

He spent six years cultivating on the Cold Jade Bed, and his Qi and blood were replenished by the Nine Yin Manual.

Yang Guo's flash was so fast it was as if he had disappeared from the spot.

Huo Du's pupils contracted.

What about people?

The answer was before him.

Yang Guo had already reached half a foot to his chest.

Raise your right fist.

Nothing fancy.

He threw a punch.

"Bang!"

The fist struck Huo Du squarely on the bridge of his nose.

Huo Du's protective true energy had just risen when it was dented inward by this punch.

The sound of bone cracking was clearly audible.

Blood gushed from the nose.

Huo Du's face snapped back, and his body flew backward half a meter.

He staggered to the ground, his head buzzing, and all he could see were black dots.

The drill ground fell silent for a moment.

Then it exploded.

"Well played!"

"Beat this foul-mouthed Mongolian dog to death!"

"Well done, Young Hero Yang!"

The heroes who had just been looking down on Yang Guo were now shouting louder and louder.

People in the martial arts world are very realistic.

If you can fight the enemy, you are one of our own.

If you beat your enemy until they vomit blood, then you're a true brother.

Yang Guo did not turn around.

He shook the blood off his fist.

"Your mouth is tougher than your martial arts skills."

Huo Du raised his hand and touched his face.

His palms were covered in blood.

The flippancy in his eyes vanished completely.

Instead, resentment and bitterness arose.

"Bastard!"

Huo Du let out a low growl and suddenly opened his folding fan.

The fan trembled.

"Whoosh whoosh whoosh!"

Dozens of fine, hair-like poison needles shot out from the fan ribs.

The poisoned needles, gleaming with a bluish light, hurtled straight towards Yang Guo's eyes, throat, and heart.

The distance is too close.

The angle is too gloomy.

This is a killer move.

The faces of the assembled heroes changed drastically.

"mean!"

Guo Jing roared angrily, and his Dragon Subduing True Qi was already activated.

But Yang Guo did not back down.

Instead, he charged forward.

A look of delight flashed in Huo Du's eyes.

court death!

However, the next moment, Yang Guo raised his hands.

Bring your index and middle fingers together.

A wisp of scorching true energy was exhaled from his fingertips.

Lin Yuan watched this scene with a hint of satisfaction in his eyes.

A fragment of the One-Finger Divine Skill manual.

The things that were in the dry well at Shili Pavilion back then finally blossomed in Yang Guo's hands.

"Ding!"

The first poisoned needle was knocked away by the force of the finger.

"Ding ding ding ding!"

The sounds blended together.

Yang Guo's hands moved like weaving through flowers, his finger strength striking with precision.

Each finger strike was weak, yet steady, accurate, and ruthless.

The poisoned needles fell one after another a foot in front of him.

Several of them were heated red-hot by the scorching air and sizzled as they hit the ground.

Huang Rong's pupils contracted.

"One-Finger Divine Skill?"

She suddenly looked at Lin Yuan.

Lin Yuan's expression remained calm.

Huang Rong felt a chill run down her spine.

Quanzhen internal energy cultivation, Nine Yin Manual, Ancient Tomb lightness skill, One Yang Finger technique.

This is not your average traditional martial art.

This is tearing down the walls of all martial arts in the world.

The Golden Wheel Dharma King also narrowed his eyes.

He couldn't see through Yang Guo.

They couldn't see through Lin Yuan at all.

Huo Du's expression changed drastically.

The poisoned needles all fell.

Yang Guo was already in front of him.

"You used a hidden weapon?"

Yang Guo pointed his right hand at Huo Du's wrist, which was holding a fan.

Huo Du quickly stopped.

late.

"Click."

The sound of bones cracking rang out.

Huo Du's right wrist collapsed.

The folding fan flew out of his hand.

Yang Guo used his left hand to grab his collar and then thrust his knee up.

"Bang!"

Huo Du was struck in the lower abdomen, and his whole body curled up like a shrimp.

He opened his mouth and spat out a mouthful of acidic water.

Yang Guo did not stop.

He slapped Huo Du on the shoulder.

The ancient tomb's palm technique is light and agile.

The Nine Yin Manual penetrates to the bones.

Huo Du dislocated his left shoulder on the spot.

A scream burst from his throat.

Darba roared from behind and gripped the golden pestle tightly.

The Golden Wheel Monk raised his hand to stop him.

"We haven't lost yet."

Upon hearing these words, a final, ruthless glint flashed in Huo Du's eyes.

He suddenly reached into his robes with his left hand and pulled out a black round ball.

Huang Rong's expression changed when she saw the thing.

"Thunderfire Bomb! Retreat!"

Huo Du was about to crush it.

Yang Guo stepped on his left hand.

"Click."

Five fingers were broken.

The black round ball rolled out.

Yang Guo bent down to pick it up, glanced at it twice, and casually tossed it to Lin Yuan.

"Brother Lin, can this thing explode?"

Lin Yuan caught the round ball and rubbed it between his fingertips.

The outer shell broke apart.

The gunpowder and poison sand inside had settled into a small clump.

Lin Yuan casually replied, "Children's toys."

Huo Du's eyes nearly popped out of their sockets.

Those are secret-made thunder and fire bombs from the Western Regions.

Within three zhang (approximately 10 meters), even iron armor can be blown through.

You call this a children's toy?

Lin Yuan clasped his hands together.

The gunpowder burned out silently in his palm, without even a wisp of smoke.

The heroes of the Central Plains felt their scalps tingle.

What exactly is this gray-robed youth?

Yang Guo didn't look at the Thunderfire Bullet again.

He grabbed Huo Du by the collar and lifted him off the ground.

Huo Du's face was covered in blood, his right wrist was ruined, his left hand was broken, and his shoulder was dislocated.

Where is even a trace of the demeanor of a Mongolian prince?

Yang Guo stared at him.

Say that sentence again.

Huo Du's lips trembled.

He wanted to beg for mercy.

But hundreds of eyes were watching from the training ground.

He cannot kneel.

"You...you dare to hurt me...my father will not let you get away with this..."

Yang Guo punched him in the mouth.

Three teeth flew out.

"Say that sentence again."

Huo Du's throat was full of blood.

He looked at the Golden Wheel Monk.

The Golden Wheel Monk's face was gloomy, but he did not make a move.

Best-of-three was his suggestion.

The rules of the arena were also Huo Du's own idea.

If we intervene now, the Mongolian Grand Preceptor will lose face.

Huo Du finally got scared.

"I...I admit it..."

The last word, "lose," hadn't even left his mouth yet.

Yang Guo raised his foot.

A kick that warms the heart.

It struck Huo Du squarely in the chest.

"boom!"

Huo Du was sent flying backward, rolling seven or eight times on the ground before crashing heavily at the feet of the Golden Wheel Monk.

Three of his sternum bones collapsed.

Fresh blood gushed from the corner of his mouth.

He tried to get up.

He braced himself with his arms for a moment, then fell back to the ground.

He could never get up again.

The drill ground fell silent for a moment.

Then, a deafening roar erupted.

"We won!"

"First game! Nakahara wins!"

"Young Master Yang is truly awe-inspiring!"

Someone called out to Young Hero Yang.

Some people call it the Ancient Tomb School.

Some people's eyes had already changed when they looked at Yang Guo and Xiaolongnu.

The disdain from before has lessened.

There are too many fears.

Lin Yuan walked over to Yang Guo and patted him on the shoulder.

"Remember this look."

Yang Guo, panting, looked around.

Lin Yuan said, "They may not accept your reasoning, but they will accept your fists."

Yang Guo nodded.

This statement is more effective than any scripture.

Guo Jing stood there, his expression complex.

He looked at Yang Guo as if he were seeing the child for the first time.

The stubborn and sensitive boy from six years ago is now able to defeat the Mongolian prince in front of all the heroes of the world.

But the path he took was one that Guo Jing couldn't understand.

Huang Rong gripped the Dog-Beating Stick and whispered, "Brother Jing, Lin Yuan is building momentum for Yang Guo."

Guo Jing remained silent.

Huang Rong looked at Lin Yuan, her gaze growing even more intense.

"He doesn't just want to win the ring. He wants to turn today's great victory into a stepping stone for Yang Guo to make a name for himself."

Lin Yuan seemed to have heard it.

He turned his head to look at Huang Rong, a smile playing on his lips.

Huang Rong's heart tightened.

That kid is still so annoying.

The Golden Wheel Monk looked down at Huo Du.

Huo Du lay at his feet like a dog with its spine broken.

The Mongol warriors looked grim.

The cheers of the heroes of the Central Plains were like slaps to their faces.

Darba could no longer hold back.

His eyes were bloodshot, his breathing was heavy, and he gripped the hundred-pound golden pestle tightly with both hands.

"Junior brother!"

He let out a wild roar.

The Golden Wheel Monk did not stop him again.

Darba took a step forward.

The bluestone slab shattered on the spot.

His massive body surged into the training ground, the golden pestle raised high, carrying heavy wind pressure, and crashed down on Yang Guo's head.