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

Midnight (11 PM - 1 AM). No moon.

On the roof ridge of the third floor of the Sutra Repository, Lin Yuan stood with his hands behind his back.

The night wind was extremely cold, causing his wide gray Taoist robe to curl up.

A pair of eyes with dark gold vertical stripes silently ignited in the night.

Golden Eyes, full power activated.

Lin Yuan's gaze pierced through the heavy night, past the three grand halls, and locked onto a wasteland below the Jingsi Cliff on the back mountain.

A deadly trap is brewing there.

In the center of the wasteland, weeds grew rampant.

Yang Guo lay on the ground, his limbs bent, in an odd posture.

His abdomen swelled up high and then quickly deflated. A deep gurgling sound came from deep in his throat.

Toad Kung Fu.

Yang Guo wasn't foolish enough to actually sit facing the wall at Jingsi Cliff.

The Quanzhen School could not tolerate him.

Zhao Zhijing wanted him dead.

Yang Guo knew he had to become stronger.

He only learned the basic techniques taught by Lin Yuan for Quanzhen internal energy cultivation, without any specific moves. The only thing he could rely on was the killing techniques taught by his adoptive father, Ouyang Feng.

Black true energy flowed around Yang Guo's body.

The surrounding weeds were quickly withered and turned yellow by this insidious true energy.

"Shh shh shh".

A dense sound of footsteps came from all directions.

Yang Guo suddenly looked up.

A dozen torches lit up at the same time, tearing through the darkness. The orange-red flames illuminated the wasteland.

Fifteen Quanzhen disciples, each wielding a longsword, formed half of the Big Dipper Formation, surrounding Yang Guo completely.

Zhao Zhijing stepped out from the back of the crowd.

He was dressed in a neat blue robe and carried a long sword in his right hand.

"evil creature."

Zhao Zhijing pointed his sword directly at Yang Guo, his voice loud and clear, full of righteous indignation.

"Your Highness the Master punished you by making you stand facing the wall in repentance, yet you dared to run away! Not only that, you even dared to secretly practice heretical and evil magic in the back mountains of Chongyang Palace!"

The firelight shone on Zhao Zhijing's face, half in light and half in shadow.

Yang Guo slowly stood up. He brushed the dirt off his knees, his eyes fierce.

"You old fox, what are you pretending to be, some respectable person?"

Yang Guo spat out a mouthful of saliva, "Thirty taels of silver to buy a human life, your heart is much blacker than the kung fu I've practiced."

The Quanzhen disciples around looked on with suspicion.

Zhao Zhijing's eye twitched.

We absolutely cannot let this kid speak again.

"You have betrayed your master and ancestors, and you will never repent! All disciples, heed my command: seize Yang Guo and bring him to the sect leader for punishment!"

Zhao Zhijing gave the order sternly.

Fifteen longswords were drawn simultaneously. The sound of swords clanging filled the air.

The three disciples were the first to launch an attack.

Three longswords were aimed at Yang Guo's throat, chest, and lower body. The swordsmanship was meticulous, sealing off all escape routes.

Yang Guo did not retreat.

He took a deep breath, and his chest and abdomen instantly expanded.

The muscles in his legs bulged, and his feet sank into a deep pit in the mud.

Quanzhen Tiangang Steps.

Yang Guo swayed and slid half a foot to the left at an incredibly unbelievable angle.

Three long swords pierced through the air, barely touching his Taoist robe.

Leading the charge was the disciple Qingfeng.

Qingfeng missed his first sword strike, and immediately changed his move, flipping his wrist and slashing Yang Guo's waist with his longsword.

Yang Guo neither dodged nor avoided, but instead gripped Qingfeng's sword blade with his right hand, his five fingers forming a claw and imbued with intense black Toad Style internal energy.

"Click."

The steel blade snapped in two under the brute force of the Toad Style Kung Fu.

Qingfeng was shocked and wanted to back away.

Yang Guo's left palm had already arrived.

A powerful, forceful push against the window to gaze at the moon landed squarely on Qingfeng's chest.

"Bang."

Qingfeng screamed and flew backward, crashing heavily into the grass two zhang away.

He clutched his chest, coughed up a mouthful of blood, and turned deathly pale.

Yang Guo held back his strength in that palm strike.

He only wanted to break out of the encirclement; he didn't want to kill anyone within the Quanzhen Sect.

Qingfeng suffered internal injuries, but they were not fatal.

A gap appeared in the besieging formation.

Yang Guo touched the ground with his toes, preparing to rush out through the gap.

"Stop him!" Zhao Zhijing shouted.

The other disciples quickly filled in, and the sword net closed again.

Yang Guo was forced into a fierce battle. The Toad Stance internal energy clashed violently with the Quanzhen Sword Qi on the wasteland.

Zhao Zhijing did not join the battle. He quickly walked to Qingfeng's side, who was coughing up blood.

"Qingfeng, hold on." Zhao Zhijing squatted down, his face full of concern.

Qingfeng struggled to sit up: "Master...this disciple is incompetent..."

"Don't speak. I will heal your wounds."

Zhao Zhijing extended his right hand and placed it on Qingfeng's back.

Hundreds of feet away.

The roof ridge of the Sutra Repository.

Lin Yuan's golden eyes magnified this scene infinitely.

He could clearly see that Zhao Zhijing's palm, which was pressed against Qingfeng's back, was filled with an extremely sharp Quanzhen internal force.

This internal energy did not enter Qingfeng's meridians to heal his injuries.

It transformed into an invisible needle of energy, piercing directly through Qingfeng's back muscles and severing his heart meridian with precision and brutality.

The entire process took less than half a breath. It was extremely well concealed.

On the wasteland.

Qingfeng's body suddenly stiffened.

His eyes widened instantly, his eyeballs almost bulging out of their sockets. His mouth opened wide, but no sound came out.

Two streams of black blood flowed down Qingfeng's nostrils and the corners of his mouth.

His head drooped limply to one side, and he was completely lifeless.

Zhao Zhijing suddenly stood up. He picked up Qingfeng's body and his voice was mournful, echoing through the night sky.

"Qingfeng! My good disciple!"

The disciples who were besieging Yang Guo paused and turned around.

Zhao Zhijing's eyes were bloodshot as he pointed at Yang Guo, his whole body trembling.

"You wicked creature! How cruel you are! Qingfeng was merely trying to stop you from escaping, yet you used sorcery to sever his heart meridian! You murdered a fellow disciple; your crime is unforgivable!"

The entire room fell silent.

All the disciples' eyes were fixed on Qingfeng's corpse, which was bleeding from all seven orifices.

Anger. Utter anger.

"Kill him! Avenge Senior Brother Qingfeng!" a disciple roared, his eyes red with rage.

"You treacherous beast who betrays his master and ancestors! Kill him!"

The fifteen Quanzhen disciples went completely mad. They held nothing back, unleashing the Quanzhen sword technique to its fullest extent. The sword light transformed into a silver net like a meat grinder, enveloping Yang Guo with a murderous intent.

Yang Guo stood there, stunned.

He stared at Qingfeng's corpse, his mind going blank.

"Huh? I killed him?"

The sword's edge was already upon them.

Yang Guo gritted his teeth and broke them.

He knew that explaining was useless.

In this situation, he is a traitor who practices evil arts, while Zhao Zhijing is a grieving elder who lost his disciple.

There is no denying it.

"You want to kill me? Come on!"

Yang Guo completely lost his mind. He unleashed his Toad Stance internal energy without reservation.

His eyes were bloodshot, and a beastly growl escaped his throat.

He stopped defending. He traded injury for his life.

A long sword pierced Yang Guo's left arm.

Yang Guo didn't even flinch. His muscles gripped the sword blade tightly, and his right fist, imbued with black qi, smashed the disciple's nose with a single punch.

Blood splattered.

Like a lone wolf driven to the brink of despair, Yang Guo braved the dense sword light and forcefully carved a bloody path through the enemy lines.

He had three deep, bone-revealing sword wounds on his body, and his tattered Taoist robe was stained with blood.

He broke through the encirclement and ran wildly northward without looking back.

"Chase him! We can't let this little devil get away!"

Zhao Zhijing drew his sword and followed closely behind.

The north is the forbidden area of ​​Chongyang Palace. It is the Tomb of the Living Dead.

The roof ridge of the Sutra Repository.

Lin Yuan withdrew his gaze. His golden eyes disappeared.

He raised his hand and caught a withered leaf blown down by the night wind.

"Using someone else to do the dirty work, killing two birds with one stone."

Lin Yuan released a wisp of sovereign flame from his palm, instantly turning the withered leaves to ashes. "Zhao Zhijing, you put on a good show. Unfortunately, you're not the only audience member."

Lin Yuan turned around. His gray robe drew a cold, hard arc in the night.

He stepped down from the rooftop. The evidence was in hand. According to the rules of the Quanzhen Sect, killing a fellow disciple was a capital offense. Zhao Zhijing had personally handed his lifeline to Lin Yuan.

Now, all that's left is for Yang Guo to knock on the tomb door.

The woods behind the mountain.

The fog was extremely thick. Moonlight could not penetrate this white barrier.

Yang Guo stumbled forward. Blood continued to flow from the wound on his left arm, and his strength was rapidly waning.

The sounds of pursuit behind them grew closer. Zhao Zhijing's roar echoed through the woods.

"Yang Guo! You can't escape! This is forbidden territory of our sect. Take another step forward, and even a god can't save you!"

Yang Guo did not stop. He spat out a mouthful of bloody saliva.

"I'd rather die in this forbidden area than at the hands of a hypocrite like you!"

Yang Guo plunged headfirst into the thickest fog.

The surrounding temperature plummeted. The trees took on bizarre shapes, resembling menacing ghosts. The fallen leaves piled up thickly on the ground, soft and yielding underfoot.

Yang Guo leaned against a big tree, panting heavily.

The sounds of the pursuers seemed to be muffled by the thick fog.

Sudden.

A sound rang out from the darkness ahead.

"Buzzing!"

The sounds were incredibly dense, like thousands of flying insects vibrating their wings simultaneously.

Yang Guo held his breath.

He raised his head.

In the thick fog, a white "cloud" was skimming the ground and drifting rapidly toward him.

The air was filled with an extremely sweet, yet saccharine, floral fragrance.

The whisper of death.