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

The war drums outside the city resounded loudly.

The dull drumbeats continued, making it hard to breathe.

Rockets rained down on the walls of Xiangyang.

Guo Jing shoved Huang Rong aside, drew his longsword with a backhand, and blood from his chest dripped down the white cloth onto the blue bricks.

"All troops prepare for battle! Defend Xiangyang to the death!" Guo Jing roared hoarsely.

The remaining soldiers on the city wall grabbed their rusty spears, trembling all over. Several younger soldiers were so frightened that they collapsed to the ground.

The rocket arrived in an instant with a piercing whistling sound, and it looked like it was about to turn this section of the city wall into a sea of ​​fire.

Lin Yuan stood still, looking up at the densely packed fire points in the sky, and let out a very soft, cold snort.

The true essence of the shattered void level of the Great Tang plane roared and circulated in the Qi Sea.

Dark golden inner flames emanated from the body through the meridians.

An invisible wall of extremely hot air instantly expanded above the city walls of Xiangyang.

The first wave of rockets crashed into the air wall.

There were no sparks flying, no sawdust flying everywhere.

Thousands of arrowheads made of high-quality steel and shafts coated with kerosene vaporized the moment they touched the air wall.

It vanished into thin air without even a wisp of smoke rising.

The second and third waves of rockets followed closely behind, all vanishing into nothingness in mid-air.

Not a single burning splinter fell from the walls of Xiangyang.

Guo Jing stood frozen in place, holding his long sword, maintaining the posture of parrying.

Huang Rong collapsed to the ground, her mouth agape, unable to breathe for a long time.

The soldiers guarding the city wall were all dumbfounded.

This is not martial arts at all.

This was beyond anything they had ever known about power in their entire lives.

Yang Guo, holding the Xuan Tie Heavy Sword, stood to the side and behind Lin Yuan.

He turned to look at Guo Jing.

Guo Jing was severely injured, his legs trembling, yet he still stood firmly in front of the tattered "Guo" banner, fearing it would fall.

The resentment that Yang Guo had been holding in for six years suddenly dissipated.

He didn't mock Guo Jing's disheveled state.

Yang Guo dragged his heavy Xuan Tie sword, weighing eighty or ninety pounds, and strode to the front of the city wall crenellations.

"Brother Lin, leave the rest to me," Yang Guo said in a deep voice.

Lin Yuan didn't turn around: "Just don't die up there."

Outside the city, the sound of bugles echoed from the Mongol army ranks.

The first wave of arrows failed to provide cover, and the Mongol general immediately changed tactics.

Ladders were erected on the city wall.

Fully armed Kheshig soldiers, biting their scimitars, began their swarming assault on the city.

A burly Mongol soldier poked his head out from the siege ladder, raising his scimitar in preparation for a kill.

Yang Guo gripped the sword with both hands, exerted force from his waist, and swept the heavy sword horizontally.

"boom!"

The heavy iron sword slammed into the chest of a Mongol soldier.

The heavy armor was dented, and the ribs were shattered.

The Mongol soldier, along with the siege ladder beneath him, was smashed in two by the violent force. The broken wood, mixed with blood and flesh, fell down the city wall, knocking over several soldiers below.

Yang Guo did not stop, and charged towards the next battlement with his sword.

The greatsword is wielded without any specific moves, relying solely on sheer sheer power and overwhelming force.

The Mongol soldiers who were struck by the heavy swords either died or were maimed, their severed limbs falling down the city wall.

In the time it takes for an incense stick to burn, Yang Guo single-handedly guarded more than a dozen battlements.

But he soon realized something was wrong.

In the battles of the martial world, if you can't win, you can run away, you can maneuver, and you can use the terrain.

Not suitable for the battlefield.

The city wall was only so big, and the enemy kept pouring up, their eyes bloodshot and they weren't afraid of dying at all.

As soon as one is killed, three more immediately take its place.

Yang Guo was panting heavily, and his muscles, which had been modified by the snake gall, began to ache.

"laugh!"

A curved blade slashed diagonally from the side, leaving a bloody gash on Yang Guo's left arm.

Yang Guo slashed the attacker with his sword, shattering him, cold sweat beading on his forehead.

He finally understood the cruelty of war.

Faced with a massive army, an individual's martial prowess is severely diminished. Even the most profound inner strength will eventually be exhausted, leading to a brutal and dismembered end. Guo Jing was worn down by this sheer numbers of soldiers.

Lin Yuan stood at the edge of the city wall, watching Yang Guo struggle in the flesh mill, without offering any help.

He turned to look at Xiaolongnu.

"Keep an eye on that madman." Lin Yuan pointed to Ouyang Feng, who was squatting on the ground picking at the cracks in the brickwork.

Xiaolongnu nodded and drew her longsword to protect Ouyang Feng.

Lin Yuan withdrew his gaze and looked again at the 100,000-strong army outside the city.

"Kublai Khan," Lin Yuan read the name aloud.

He lightly tapped his right foot on the battlement.

The gray Taoist robe billowed in the night wind.

Under the horrified gazes of the entire city's garrison and Guo Jing, Lin Yuan leaped down from the hundred-zhang-high city wall.

He did not use his lightness skill to slow down the force of his fall.

Enveloped in dark golden true essence, he slammed straight down on the densest Mongol army formation below with an extremely domineering posture.

"Boom!"

The ground trembled violently, producing a deafening roar like thunder.

The moment Lin Yuan's feet touched the ground, a violent shockwave swept out along the ground.

The Mongol soldiers within a radius of ten zhang were instantly blasted into a bloody mist before they could even scream.

The surrounding land vitrified under the high temperature, turning into a blood-red scorched earth that exuded a dark red residual heat.

The thousands of Mongol soldiers who were charging forward were so frightened by the earth-shattering noise that they stopped in their tracks.

Lin Yuan stood in the center of the scorched earth and slowly straightened up.

The surrounding area was filled with shattered limbs and broken pieces.

He dusted off his sleeves and walked towards the central command tent.

"Kill him!" A Mongol centurion reacted, brandishing his scimitar and roaring.

Hundreds of spearmen raised their spears and thrust them at Lin Yuan from all directions.

Lin Yuan didn't even raise his hand.

Dark golden true essence of monarchic flames circulated on the surface of his body.

The moment the spear touched his clothes, the steel spearhead melted into molten iron, which dripped onto the ground.

Lin Yuan took a step forward and crashed into the crowd.

The Mongol soldiers felt an irresistible force strike them, their bodies exploded, and blood and bits of flesh splattered all over those around them.

He single-handedly carved a wide, bloody path through an army of ten thousand.

He advanced in a straight line, and no one could stop him even a step. Even elite soldiers in heavy armor would be instantly carbonized upon encountering that layer of dark gold true essence.

The Mongol central command tent in the distance.

Kublai Khan stood on the chariot, holding a riding whip in his hand, his face ashen.

"Who is that person?" Kublai Khan demanded loudly, his voice trembling.

The adjutant beside him was sweating profusely: "Your Highness, that man jumped down from the city wall. He's impervious to swords and spears; the brothers can't stop him at all! He's charging straight towards the central army!"

Kublai Khan clenched his teeth, his facial muscles twitching.

"Give the order!" Kublai Khan drew his sword. "Move three thousand heavily armored Kheshig infantry to form an iron wall formation! Trample him inside!"

The bugle call changed its rhythm.

The previously chaotic military formation quickly dispersed, clearing a large open space.

Heavy footsteps came from both sides, shaking the ground.

Three thousand Kheshig soldiers, their bodies clad in heavy iron armor, marched forward in orderly formation.

They held heavy steel shields, each taller than a person, their shields jammed together to form an impenetrable iron wall.

From the gaps in the shields, countless spears emerged.

This is the true trump card that enabled the Mongols to sweep across the world.

The Iron Wall Formation is specifically designed to annihilate martial arts masters.

Lin Yuan stopped in his tracks.

Heavy steel shields from all directions quickly closed in, tightly surrounding him in the center.

The encirclement is getting smaller and smaller.

Ten zhang (approximately 33 meters).

Five zhang (approximately 10 meters).

Three zhang (approximately 10 meters).

Kublai Khan stood on the chariot and exhaled a long breath.

"No matter how high your martial arts skills are, you can't defeat an army of thousands." Kublai Khan sneered.

The iron wall formation was completely blocked; not even a fly could get out.

On the city wall, Yang Guo smashed the head of a Mongol soldier with a single sword strike, then turned to look outside the city.

He happened to see the iron wall completely close.

Hundreds of spears simultaneously pierced the center of the encirclement, turning that area into a giant steel hedgehog.

Darkness instantly engulfed Lin Yuan, and not a trace of the dark golden light could be seen anymore.

"Brother Lin!"

Yang Guo's eyes were bloodshot, and he let out a desperate roar.

He gripped the heavy black iron sword tightly with both hands and charged towards the edge of the city wall without regard for anything else.