Yang Guo: I defied death and reached the heavens in The Return of the Condor Heroes

"How could this be?"

A young Taoist priest cried out in surprise, his sword involuntarily faltering for a moment.

"How could this person know the location of the formation's core?"

Another disciple looked equally astonished and whispered in horror.

Zhao Zhijing was both shocked and furious upon seeing this. He personally took charge of the flank formation, activating the array and shouting orders:

"Change formation immediately! Connect the Kan position to the Xun position, do not let him hold the key point of the formation!"

Upon hearing the sound, the disciples immediately changed positions, using the Seven Star Steps to move swiftly and wield their longswords, creating layers of sharp sword nets that enveloped the center of the formation from all directions, intending to force Guo Jing, who occupied the core of the formation, to retreat.

Guo Jing neither dodged nor avoided, but instead used his ambidextrous fighting technique, unleashing a different version of the Eighteen Subduing Dragon Palms with each hand.

With a sweeping motion of his left palm, "Dragon Appears in the Field," he deflected the attack of the seven sword formations on the left.

With his right palm, he concentrated his inner strength, "The Dragon Regrets," and repelled all kinds of sword moves that came from his right side.

The powerful palm strikes condensed into an invisible wall of energy, preventing the countless sword blades from getting within three feet of him.

Each palm strike was accompanied by a deep, howling dragon roar.

The Quanzhen disciples felt their arms go numb and tremble, and they almost lost their grip on their longswords.

A young disciple gritted his teeth and struggled to steady himself, but was knocked back several steps by the powerful palm wind, fell to the ground, and dropped his longsword with a crisp clang that echoed through the mountains.

His fellow disciples rushed forward to help him, but were unexpectedly struck by the gusts of wind from the palms that followed. They immediately lost their footing and staggered, unable to stand.

Guo Jing always held back seven-tenths of his internal strength, using only skillful force to deflect everyone's weapons without harming the Quanzhen disciples in the slightest.

He moved about among the various small groups of seven.

He would sometimes sidestep to avoid the sudden thrust of the sword.

Sometimes he would lightly exhale with both palms, his palm force precisely brushing against the wrists of the people holding their swords.

The crisp sounds of weapons hitting the ground echoed one after another, and dozens of longswords were knocked out of hand by the powerful internal force.

Some of the longswords were embedded diagonally into the mud by the roadside, their hilts trembling slightly on their own.

The rest swirled and fell through the air to various parts of the mountain path, striking the bluestone with a continuous, crisp clanging sound.

Before the time it takes to drink a cup of tea is up, twenty or thirty longswords have already been scattered along the mountain path.

Under the warm autumn sun, it reflects scattered, fragmented patches of cold light.

The disciples who had lost their weapons were all blushing with embarrassment.

Some people stood frozen in place, at a loss; others bent down to pick up the longsword, only to be stopped by their fellow disciples.

Chaos erupted instantly on the mountain path.

It was at this moment.

Seeing that Guo Jing was tied up by the formation and had no time to look back, several young Taoists quietly circled around to the back, intending to take advantage of the chaos to forcibly abduct Yang Guo.

"You little thief, where do you think you're going to run to today!"

A young Taoist priest, his face contorted with malice, lunged at Yang Guo with a sinister grin, thrusting his long sword straight at him.

Yang Guo's eyes suddenly turned cold.

He had no intention of showing off his skills here, but since the other party had taken the initiative to come to him, he might as well make a move and give these future fellow disciples a taste of their own medicine.

Just as the young Taoist priest thrust his sword forward...

The Qi within his body condensed instantly.

Reverse Rebirth Level 1, activated!

The longsword pierced straight into Yang Guo's shoulder, but with a clear "clang," the wooden sword broke in two.

"How could this be!?"

The young Taoist was instantly terrified, and the broken sword in his hand almost slipped from his grasp and fell to the ground.

His eyes widened as he stared blankly at Yang Guo's shoulder, where there was not a single mark, and even his clothes were perfectly smooth, without a single scratch.

Yang Guo spun around, but without any sign of him gathering strength, he simply flicked his palm lightly.

In the eyes of the young Taoist, the hand grew larger and larger.

Despite his best efforts to dodge, he was unable to escape and his body flew backward more than ten feet like a kite with a broken string.

When he crashed to the ground, he clutched his left cheek and cried out in pain; half of his face was already swollen and red.

The remaining disciples were both shocked and frightened. They exchanged glances and then rushed forward together.

They simply wanted to rely on their superior numbers to encourage each other and resolve to capture and subdue the boy.

Yang Guo moved swiftly, flitting among the group like a ghost.

Without employing any complicated or fancy moves, only a simple slap, each strike was precise and the force was perfectly controlled, instantly rendering everyone powerless to retaliate without harming their lives.

A child lunged at him from the left, but Yang Guo swiftly moved and appeared behind him in an instant, slapping him on the back of the neck.

The young Taoist groaned, staggered forward, and landed, clutching his neck tightly, his face turning deathly pale.

In just a few breaths.

The seven or eight Taoist boys who rushed forward all collapsed to the ground, some covering their faces, others pressing their necks, groaning in pain, unable to get up.

The Quanzhen disciples around were all stunned.

I originally thought that Guo Jing's skills were so outstanding that he could be considered one of the most exceptional people in the world.

Unexpectedly, this seemingly accompanying young man possessed such profound martial arts skills, and his attacks were swift and decisive.

Everyone was secretly puzzled as to why he always targeted people's faces.

Someone muttered under their breath, "Just who is this kid?"

The Taoist priests beside him slowly shook their heads, their faces also blank, completely unable to fathom the truth.

Zhao Zhijing stood in the middle of the formation, taking in everything.

Seeing his beloved disciple Lu Qingdu being slapped and sent flying by Yang Guo, he was instantly consumed by rage, his face turning ashen.

But at this moment, he was firmly held back by Guo Jing and had no way to break free, so he could only shout at him sternly:

"You still dare to deny that you are villains! Your attacks are so ruthless and cruel! Today, I will show you the power of the Quanzhen Sect!"

After saying that, he personally led the remaining disciples to activate the Big Dipper Formation to its peak.

The sword light surged like falling snow, and a chilling killing intent permeated the air.

Seeing that Zhao Zhijing was truly enraged, none of the disciples dared to relax in the slightest. They all concentrated their energy, and their sword moves became even more ruthless and fierce.

Guo Jing saw that the other party was furious and attacked, and secretly groaned in his heart.

He had no intention of creating a rift with the Quanzhen Sect, but if he didn't intervene to break the formation, the current chaos would inevitably escalate and become difficult to control.

He took a deep breath and suddenly switched the stances of his two palms.

The right palm, which had been attacking, suddenly retracted its strength to defend, while the left palm, which had been deflecting force to defend, suddenly unleashed a powerful and fierce palm strike.

The two Dragon Subduing Palm techniques shifted and changed in an instant, their attacks and defenses unpredictable, leaving the Quanzhen disciples completely unable to anticipate their moves.

Seeing that the formation was repeatedly suppressed and he had lost face, Zhao Zhijing could no longer suppress his anger.

He gritted his teeth, gripped his longsword tightly, and quietly circled around to Guo Jing's back from the side of the formation. He then poured all his inner strength into a sharp thrust that went straight for Guo Jing's heart.

He made his move with the intention of launching a sneak attack.

If this sword strike succeeds, even if it doesn't severely injure Guo Jing, it can still cause him to suffer a public humiliation, slightly salvaging his lost face.

Hearing the sound of a sword slicing through the air behind him, Guo Jing did not move his feet an inch, but slightly tilted his body to the side, and calmly dodged this ruthless sneak attack.

With a flick of his wrist, he delivered a palm strike that barely touched Zhao Zhijing's shoulder, yet it sent him staggering back several steps, nearly causing the longsword in his hand to slip from his grasp and fall to the ground.

Once Zhao Zhijing regained his balance, he felt a tingling numbness in his shoulder and his entire arm suddenly felt weak and powerless.

He stood awkwardly to the side of the formation, his face alternating between pale and ashen, filled with shame, anger, and fear, and dared not rashly step forward to make a move.

The interconnected small formations were successively shattered by the powerful palm strikes, and the formation of the ninety-eight disciples was thrown into chaos in an instant.

As everyone shoved and jostled each other, the Seven Star Steps could no longer be maintained, and the sprawling Big Dipper Formation completely collapsed and disintegrated.

Long swords lay scattered along the mountain path, their blades gleaming with a faint, chaotic, cold light under the warm sun.

Many Taoist priests were shaken by the powerful palm strike and staggered, falling to their seats on the green stone mountain path.

Everyone stared in fear at Guo Jing, who stood firmly in the center of the formation, their hearts filled with shock and trembling.

Someone murmured, "This...this is no ordinary person?"

His fellow disciples beside him stared blankly, their throats bobbing several times, but they couldn't utter a single word.

Guo Jing slowly withdrew his palm strike, his breathing remained steady, and his clothes were perfectly intact.

He stood alone at the North Star position in the Big Dipper formation, not taking advantage of the defeat to press forward, but simply bowing deeply and saying:

"Fellow Daoists, now that the formation has collapsed, may I go up the mountain to see Master Qiu and explain in detail all the misunderstandings that have occurred today?"

Zhao Zhijing's face turned pale and then red, filled with humiliation and resentment. Looking at the weapons scattered on the ground and his disheveled fellow disciples, he was speechless for a moment.

Just then, a sudden, urgent alarm bell rang out from the direction of Chongyang Palace, its continuous ringing echoing through the mountains and valleys.