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

Darba's golden pestle slammed down.

The news arrived first.

The heavy air pressure made the bluestone slabs of the drill ground crack and creak.

Yang Guo had just crippled Huo Du, and his breathing hadn't fully recovered. Faced with this blow, he didn't back down.

If they retreat, the momentum they had just built up will be gone.

He crossed his palms, and the light, agile palm strike from the Ancient Tomb Sect met the side of the Golden Pestle.

"clang!"

The metal clanged and exploded.

Yang Guo's body sank, and the tiger's mouth of his right hand split open, with blood dripping down the edge of his palm.

He slid backward with his feet flat on the ground, carving out two furrows.

The cheers of the crowd ceased.

Darba's strike was straightforward and without any tricks.

It's heavy.

It's so heavy it's unreasonable.

"What incredible strength!"

"Young Master Yang's internal energy hasn't recovered yet!"

"That Mongolian barbarian is taking advantage of us too much!"

Darba couldn't understand many words of the Central Plains dialect.

He stared intently at Yang Guo, his eyes filled with rage.

Huo Du was lying on the ground vomiting blood, and his senior brother couldn't just ignore it.

Darba swung his golden pestle and smashed it down again.

This time it's even faster.

The shadows of the pestles came one after another, forcing Yang Guo to dodge repeatedly.

Although the Ancient Tomb's lightness skill was fast, Darba's golden pestle covered too wide an area. The hundred-pound weapon in his hands was like a bamboo pole; he swept, smashed, picked, and pressed, forcibly pushing Yang Guo into a corner of the training ground.

Guo Jing frowned.

"Rong'er, Guo'er can't hold on for much longer."

Huang Rong stared at Lin Yuan.

He didn't move.

Guo Jing looked over.

Lin Yuan stood there with his arms crossed, showing no sign of worry.

That's the scariest part.

It's not that he doesn't care about Yang Guo.

He was convinced that Yang Guo would not lose.

Little Dragon Girl stood to one side, white silk hanging gently from her sleeve.

She didn't make a move; she just watched Yang Guo.

Yang Guo blocked another blow.

"Bang!"

He felt a numbness in his left shoulder, and half of his body briefly lost sensation.

Darba seized the opportunity, sweeping his golden pestle straight at Yang Guo's chest.

If this blow lands, at least half of the ribs will be broken.

Yang Guo's eyes darkened, and he forcefully activated the Toad Skill, his body shrinking back in a strange way.

The golden pestle swept across the front of his clothes, lifting up a piece of cloth.

He dodged the fatal blow, but the strong wind caused blood to spill from the corner of his mouth.

Darba roared, raised his pestle with both hands, and finally exerted all his strength.

The golden pestle was raised high.

This strike aimed straight for the crown of the head.

The expressions on everyone's faces changed at the drill ground.

Guo Jing stomped his foot, ready to make a move.

Lin Yuan's voice rang in Yang Guo's mind first.

"A bull cannot be directly confronted."

Yang Guo's eyes lit up.

Lin Yuan's voice continued to come.

"Nine Yin Soul Transfer, look into his eyes."

Yang Guo looked up.

Darba's golden pestle had already descended three feet above his head.

Yang Guo did not retreat but advanced.

His eyes were fixed on Darba.

The Soul Transfer Technique from the Nine Yin Manual was activated at this moment.

Darba was simple-minded and consumed by rage. Their eyes met, and his mind went blank for a moment.

Just a fleeting moment.

enough.

Yang Guo slid his body along the edge of the golden pestle, his right palm pressing against the side of the pestle, and the soft, counter-force of the Toad Stance was released from his palm.

It's not a hard block.

It's a loan.

Darba's full-force downward strike was deflected.

The golden pestle veered off course and crashed down on his own right knee.

Darba suddenly regained his senses, but it was too late to stop.

"Snap!"

The sound of bones cracking echoed across the training ground.

Darba screamed in agony as his massive body collapsed heavily to his knees.

The bluestone slab was smashed by a knee.

The golden pestle slipped from his hand and rolled several feet away.

Yang Guo stood beside him, his right hand pointing out half an inch in front of Darba's throat.

True Qi emanates from the fingertips.

Darba froze.

Yang Guo was panting, his voice cold and hard.

Who won the second round?

Darba gritted his teeth, his face covered in sweat.

He is not satisfied.

But that finger pointing at his throat could kill him.

The Golden Wheel Monk's face was ashen.

Huo Du was defeated.

Darba also lost.

Best of three.

Mongolia lost.

The heroes of the Central Plains were initially silent, but then erupted into chaos.

"We won!"

"We won the second game too!"

"Young Master Yang has defeated two Mongol generals in succession!"

"Who dares to call him a heretic or evil spirit? He's just beating up Mongolian dogs!"

This world is very real.

They just criticized Yang Guo for violating the ethical boundaries between master and disciple.

Now they wish they could lift Yang Guo onto the table and offer him a toast.

Yang Guo withdrew his hand.

He did not kill Darba.

It's not that I'm soft-hearted.

It was Lin Yuan who didn't allow it.

He turned to look at Lin Yuan.

Lin Yuan nodded.

"good."

Yang Guo grinned, the blood still visible at the corner of his mouth.

Hearing "not bad" from Brother Lin is more valuable than hearing a thousand shouts of "Young hero!" from the crowd.

Guo Jing looked at Yang Guo with a complicated expression.

He saw Yang Guo's ruthlessness, but he also saw Yang Guo's sense of propriety.

Yang Guo won this battle with difficulty, but he won honorably.

Huang Rong whispered, "Brother Jing, after today, Yang Guo's reputation in the martial arts world will be unstoppable."

Guo Jing remained silent for a moment.

"He typed this out himself."

The Golden Wheel Monk slowly walked out.

His robe billowed without wind.

Darba clutched his knee, looked up and shouted something in Tibetan, seemingly trying to persuade his master.

The Golden Wheel Monk did not look at him.

His gaze fell on Lin Yuan.

"People from the Central Plains are good at scheming."

Lin Yuan said calmly, "If you lose, admit it. Don't embarrass Buddha."

Huo Du, lying on the ground, coughed up another mouthful of blood upon hearing this.

The Golden Wheel Monk's eye twitched.

He is representing Mongolia on this trip.

If they lose two battles in a row at the Heroes' Assembly and leave in disgrace, the momentum of the Mongol southward advance will be interrupted.

He can't retreat.

We can't afford to withdraw.

The Golden Wheel Dharma King shook his hands.

Five wheels made of gold, silver, copper, iron, and lead flew up at the same time.

Five beams of cold light swirled around him, emitting a piercing whistling sound.

Guo Jing said sternly, "Grand Preceptor! The best-of-three series is already decided, are you still going to break the rules?"

The Golden Wheel Monk said coldly, "This humble monk only knows that the leader of the martial arts alliance should be the strongest."

Huang Rong's eyes turned cold.

"This is an attempt to renege on the debt."

Lin Yuan smiled.

That's what he's been waiting for.

With a stomp of his foot, the Golden Wheel Monk unleashed the Dragon Elephant Prajna Skill.

The five wheels were instantly out of his hands.

They did not fly towards Guo Jing.

It did not fly towards Lin Yuan.

Instead, they bypassed the training ground and went straight for Yang Guo.

Yang Guo had just fought two battles, and his internal energy was more than half depleted, making him his weakest point.

Five wheels cut through the air, moving so fast that only afterimages remained.

Guo Jing's expression changed drastically, and he instantly unleashed the full power of the Eighteen Subduing Dragon Palms.

But he is still far from being like Yang Guo.

It's too late.

The little dragon girl's white silk sleeves were thrown out, but they were shaken off course by the strong winds whipped up by the five wheels.

The Golden Wheel Monk's attack was clearly intended to kill Yang Guo.

Killing Yang Guo would break the momentum of the Central Plains' winning streak.

That's a poorly planned scheme.

But it's ruthless enough.

Yang Guo's pupils contracted.

Five wheels blocked his escape route.

He can withstand one round, but not five.

Just as the five wheels were less than a zhang away from Yang Guo.

Lin Yuan disappeared.

It's not light-footed skill.

Few people present could see his movements clearly.

The next instant, he appeared in front of Yang Guo.

The gray robe fell to the ground.

Raise your right hand.

Spread your five fingers.

"boom."

Dark gold true essence erupted.

There was no loud noise.

There was only a moment of deathly silence.

The five flying wheels stopped three inches in front of Lin Yuan's palm.

The golden wheel spun at high speed, its edges cutting through the air, and sparks flew wildly.

Lin Yuan's hand remained completely still.

The Golden Wheel Dharma King's eyes were wide open.

He pushed his arms forward, increasing the power of the Dragon Elephant Prajna Skill once again.

The five wheels emitted a sharp whistling sound, trying to crush Lin Yuan's hand.

Lin Yuan looked up at him.

"this one?"

Bring your five fingers together.

"Click."

The first golden wheel transforms.

"Click-clack-click-clack!"

The silver wheel, the bronze wheel, the iron wheel, and the lead wheel twisted simultaneously.

The mournful sound of metal echoed throughout Lujiazhuang.

The crowd watched as Lin Yuan crushed the five flying wheels, powerful enough to cut through steel, into a lump of scrap metal with a single hand.

No one spoke.

Even their breathing became softer.

Guo Jing's Dragon Subduing True Qi was still lingering in his palm.

As he watched Lin Yuan's retreating figure, he made a clear judgment for the first time.

This is no longer about the difference in martial arts skills.

This is a difference in levels.

Huang Rong gripped the Dog-Beating Stick tightly, her fingertips turning cold.

Six years ago, she was still able to scheme against Lin Yuan.

Now, she's almost lost even the right to judge Lin Yuan's bottom line.

Lin Yuan casually tossed it aside.

The lump of scrap metal crashed down at the feet of the Golden Wheel Monk.

"boom!"

A deep pit appeared in the ground.

Pebbles splashed onto the robe of the Golden Wheel Dharma King.

The Golden Wheel Monk did not move.

His five wheels are gone.

His once-proud face, which had roamed the Western Regions, was crushed by this pinch.

Lin Yuan walked forward.

step.

The air in the training ground is sinking.

Two steps.

The Mongol warriors retreated in unison.

Three steps.

The Golden Wheel Dharma King's robe clung to his body, and sweat beaded on his forehead.

Lin Yuan stopped ten steps away from him.

The dark gold vertical pupils lit up.

"The third game."

Lin Yuan raised his hand and pointed at the Golden Wheel Monk.

"I'll play with you."

His voice wasn't loud, but it dominated the entire Lu Family Village.

"There is a distinction between high and low."

Lin Yuan paused.

"It's a matter of life and death."