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

The night wind stirred up dust and the smell of blood from the ground.

Qiu Chuji collapsed into the mud pit, and several Quanzhen disciples rushed over in a panic, pinching his philtrum and channeling their inner energy into him.

Hao Datong leaned against the broken tree trunk, his chest heaving violently. His longsword lay to the side, and he didn't even have the strength to pick it up.

The torches flickered in the wind.

Wang Chuyi pushed away the disciple who was helping him and staggered forward two steps.

He looked at his disciples groaning on the ground, then at the gray-robed youth, his eyes filled with fear and confusion.

Six years ago, this boy was a weakling who needed to use his position to escape Peach Blossom Island.

Six years later, he crushed the century-old dignity of the Quanzhen Sect with just one step.

"Your martial arts are unparalleled, I concede defeat."

Wang Chuyi's voice was hoarse, his hands clasped together, and he bowed deeply.

"But the Quanzhen Sect is the culmination of Master Chongyang's life's work and a century-old lineage; it cannot be lightly insulted. Now, with the Mongol army pressing in, the Quanzhen Sect is struggling to hold on in the north, resisting the foreign invaders. If Your Excellency were to exterminate them today, wouldn't that chill the hearts of all heroes and delight the Mongol Tartars?"

Wang Chuyi raised his head, trying to use his sense of justice and patriotism to fight for the last chance of survival for the Quanzhen Sect.

Lin Yuan looked at Wang Chuyi.

The dark golden vertical pupils lit up in the night.

He doesn't speak.

Inside the dantian, the true essence crystal slowly rotated.

An oppressive force, surpassing the limits of this world, spread outwards from Lin Yuan's body.

The air instantly became viscous.

Wang Chuyi felt a sudden weight on his shoulders and his legs trembled uncontrollably.

He desperately tried to circulate his Quanzhen internal energy to resist, but that force was completely unreasonable.

The ground groaned under the weight.

Centered on Lin Yuan, all the rubble within a ten-zhang radius was suspended in mid-air and then silently turned into dust.

"The greater cause of resisting the Mongols?"

Lin Yuan spoke, his voice not loud, but clearly drowning out the sound of the wind.

"You cultivate Taoism and chant scriptures on Zhongnan Mountain, watching the Han people in the north being slaughtered. Is this what you call resisting the Mongols? Wang Chongyang has been dead for decades. Besides guarding this dilapidated Taoist temple, what have you done?"

Lin Yuan took a step forward.

"Bang."

Wang Chuyi's knees slammed into the ground, shattering the bluestone slab. Blood flowed from his seven orifices, and he lay sprawled on the ground, unable to even lift his head.

"I'm only giving you two choices," Lin Yuan said, looking down at Wang Chuyi. "First, tonight, Chongyang Palace will be completely wiped out, and I will personally raze Zhongnan Mountain to the ground. Second, immediately announce the disbandment of the Quanzhen Sect and its closure for a hundred years. All disciples must take off their Taoist robes and get out of Zhongnan Mountain."

The entire room fell silent.

The Quanzhen School was disbanded, and the mountain was closed for a hundred years.

This is crueler than killing them.

"You fiend! Don't even think about destroying the foundation of my Quanzhen Sect!"

Among the crowd, three self-proclaimed fierce third-generation disciples, their eyes bloodshot, roared as they drew their longswords.

They stepped over their fellow disciples, trudging through the mud, and charged straight at Lin Yuan. Their swords were aimed directly at Lin Yuan's throat, heart, and groin.

Yang Guo gripped his longsword tightly, about to step forward.

Lin Yuan raised his hand to stop him.

Lin Yuan did not draw his sword. He didn't even move a finger.

Deep within the dantian, above the True Essence Lake, the fragment of the Demon-Suppressing Sword emitted an extremely faint wisp of high-dimensional sword intent.

The sword intent flowed through Lin Yuan's meridians and permeated his body.

There was no sword light, no sword energy.

It's just pure spatial cutting.

The Quanzhen disciple at the forefront stopped his steel sword three feet away from Lin Yuan.

"Click."

The sword tip broke off.

Immediately afterwards, the entire longsword, from tip to hilt, disintegrated inch by inch.

The steel turned into black iron powder, which fell into the mud.

The disciple was stunned. He stared at his empty right hand, his mind blank.

The high-dimensional sword intent did not stop.

An invisible force descended from the sky and struck the three disciples directly on the heads.

"Bang! Bang! Bang!"

All three were knocked to the ground at the same time.

His face slammed heavily into the mud puddle. The bones in his limbs made a series of cracking sounds.

They lay on the ground, their bodies twisted into bizarre positions, unable to even utter a scream.

The Quanzhen Sect disciples gasped in shock.

Hundreds of people retreated in unison, causing the torches to sway violently.

No one saw how Lin Yuan made his move.

This power was completely beyond their comprehension.

Wang Chuyi lay on the ground, looking at his three crippled disciples, his mental defenses completely collapsing.

He knew that Lin Yuan was not joking.

This gray-robed youth could truly wipe the Quanzhen Sect from the world overnight.

As long as the green hills remain, there will always be firewood. As long as people are alive, the tradition will endure.

Wang Chuyi closed his eyes, and two streams of turbid tears mixed with blood flowed down his face.

"This humble Taoist... agrees." Wang Chuyi's voice trembled, each word bitten until it bled, "The Quanzhen Sect... will be disbanded. It will be sealed off for a hundred years."

Upon hearing this, hundreds of Quanzhen disciples dropped their weapons.

The sound of crying echoed through the darkness of the back hill.

Hao Datong closed his eyes and turned his head away.

Lin Yuan's eyes remained completely unmoved.

"Go to the forbidden cave in the back mountain." Lin Yuan looked at Wang Chuyi, "and bring Zhao Zhijing here."

Wang Chuyi suddenly opened his eyes.

Six years ago, Zhao Zhijing was crippled by Qiu Chuji for harming his fellow disciples and was imprisoned in a forbidden cave in the back mountains, never to leave again.

Wang Chuyi dared not disobey. He turned to look at the two disciples behind him.

"Go...bring Zhao Zhijing here."

The two disciples scrambled and stumbled as they ran towards the depths of the back mountain.

The open space fell into a deathly silence.

The only sounds were the rustling of the wind through the trees and Yin Zhiping's increasingly faint groans.

Yang Guo stood beside Lin Yuan. His hand holding the sword was trembling.

The humiliation, beatings, and framing from six years ago flashed through my mind.

He had been waiting for this day for six years.

Little Dragon Girl stood quietly to the side, looking at Lin Yuan's profile.

This man meant what he said. He vowed to raze Chongyang Palace to the ground, and he showed no mercy.

After an incense stick has burned.

The sound of chains dragging on the ground came from the path behind the mountain.

Two disciples carried a ragged, emaciated man to the edge of the open space.

The man's hair was gray and disheveled, like a tangled mess. He reeked of a pungent stench.

The two disciples released their grip.

The man fell into the mud.

Zhao Zhijing.

Six years of imprisonment in darkness had completely destroyed his mind. He was so thin he was just skin and bones, his eyes sunken and his gaze unfocused.

"Spare me... Sect Leader, spare me... This disciple knows his mistake..." Zhao Zhijing lay on the ground, instinctively kowtowing.

He looked up, his gaze sweeping across the open space.

He saw the Quanzhen disciples lying on the ground, Qiu Chuji coughing up blood and fainting, and Wang Chuyi kneeling in the mud.

Finally, his gaze fell on the pool of blood not far away.

Yin Zhiping was lying there.

His Taoist robe was soaked in blood at the hem, and his groin area was a bloody mess. Yin Zhiping's eyes rolled back, and he was barely clinging to life.

Zhao Zhijing's pupils dilated instantly.

Extreme fear took over his mind.

He turned his head sharply and saw Lin Yuan standing in the firelight, and Yang Guo standing next to Lin Yuan.

Memories from six years ago suddenly resurfaced.

The gray-robed boy sweeping the floor in the library. The stubborn kid he chased down in the back mountains.

Zhao Zhijing's body trembled violently. He used both his hands and feet to desperately crawl backward.

"Don't kill me...don't kill me!" Zhao Zhijing's voice was hoarse and choked with sobs.

Lin Yuan did not look at him.

Lin Yuan turned to look at Yang Guo.

"You should avenge yourself," Lin Yuan said calmly.

Yang Guo took a deep breath.

He drew his longsword and strode toward Zhao Zhijing.

When Zhao Zhijing saw Yang Guo approaching, he was so frightened that he soiled himself. The stench filled the air.

"Guo'er... I'm your master! You can't kill me!" Zhao Zhijing knelt on the ground, kowtowing frantically. His forehead struck the stone, and blood flowed freely.

Yang Guo stopped in front of Zhao Zhijing.

He looked at the man who had once been high and mighty, who had trampled on his dignity at will, now groveling at his feet like a dog.

Yang Guo raised his longsword.

The sword's edge gleamed coldly in the firelight.

"Six years ago, you killed Xiao Cui and Qing Feng, framing me for it," Yang Guo said coldly. "When you drove me to my death, did you ever imagine this day would come?"