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

The old eunuch's corpse crashed down below the dragon steps.

Only heavy breathing could be heard inside the Daqing Hall.

A few gusts of night wind blew in through the broken palace door, causing the thick, red tallow candles on either side to sway violently.

Lin Yuan lifted his foot and stepped onto the dragon-carved white marble steps.

The military boots made a long, monotonous, and suppressed rubbing sound as they stepped on the jade.

Emperor Lizong of Song, Zhao Yun, huddled in the large dragon throne.

The twelve-tassel crown on his head had long since fallen to the ground, scattering pearls and jade beads everywhere.

He gripped the golden dragon head carved on the armrest of the dragon throne tightly with both hands, his knuckles turning bluish-white from the excessive force.

The foul, pungent odor grew stronger and stronger.

This high and mighty Song emperor really did wet himself.

Lin Yuan stopped three steps in front of the dragon throne.

His dark golden vertical pupils looked down at him, his eyes showing neither anger nor hatred, only indifference as he looked at something dirty.

Zhao Yun's psychological defenses completely collapsed.

Zhao Yun rolled off the chair that symbolized the highest power in the world.

His knee struck the gold brick with a dull thud.

He didn't bother to straighten his disheveled dragon robe, and crawled and rolled on the gold bricks to Lin Yuan's feet.

"Don't kill me!"

Zhao Yun raised his head, his face, hollowed out by wine and women, was covered with tears and snot.

He reached out his hands to hug Lin Yuan's legs, but was repelled by the protective aura emanating from Lin Yuan's body.

Ignoring the pain, Zhao Yun braced himself on the ground and incoherently threw out every bargaining chip he could think of.

What do you want?

"I'll give you anything!"

"This empire and the entire Song Dynasty are yours!"

A morbid fanaticism gleamed in Zhao Yun's eyes.

"I hereby issue an edict of self-reproach, announcing to the world that I am directly abdicating the throne to you!"

"Absolutely right!"

"You are the true Son of Heaven!"

Zhao Yun kowtowed forcefully, his forehead hitting the gold brick and leaving a large patch of blood.

"Just spare my dog's life."

"I'll be your wealthy husband in the harem."

"Even if you let me be a puppet emperor, issuing orders from behind the scenes, all the officials would listen to you!"

"All the military power and the nation's wealth are yours!"

The hall echoed with Zhao Yun's humble pleas for mercy.

Outside the palace gate.

Yang Guo leaned on his heavy black iron sword with one hand, listening to the voice coming from inside, a look of disdain on his face.

This is the emperor whom Uncle Guo risked his life and bled to protect.

This is the Song Dynasty court that spouts nothing but benevolence and morality.

It's absurd and laughable.

Lin Yuan stood still, looking at Zhao Yun kneeling at his feet, kowtowing repeatedly.

A very soft laugh escaped from Lin Yuan's throat.

The laughter then grew louder and louder.

Lin Yuan tilted his head back and burst into loud laughter.

Laughter echoed throughout the spacious Daqing Hall, causing the glazed tiles on the roof to rattle.

There was no smugness in that laughter, only undisguised mockery and contempt.

Zhao Yun stopped kowtowing and stared blankly at Lin Yuan, who was laughing wildly.

Lin Yuan stopped laughing.

He lowered his head and glanced at the dragon throne, which was made of pure gold and inlaid with countless gems.

"Legitimate and justified?"

Lin Yuan uttered these four words with a chilling tone.

"You think you're doing me a favor?"

Lin Yuan raised his right foot and stepped directly onto Zhao Yun's shoulder, firmly pinning the Song emperor to the gold bricks.

Zhao Yun let out a muffled groan, his bones creaking under the strain.

"The base of this chair is made of the bones of soldiers on the front lines, and the armrests are stained with the blood of the people."

"You bunch of vampires sit on top, eating human flesh and drinking human blood, and yet you erect a monument to yourselves, claiming it's the will of Heaven."

Lin Yuan exerted force with his feet.

"You're using it as a priceless treasure to negotiate with me?"

"I think it's dirty."

Zhao Yun opened his mouth wide, his chest was being crushed so hard he couldn't breathe.

He couldn't understand it.

How could anyone in this world refuse the throne?

How could anyone refuse the power to rule the world?

"I don't want to sit on it."

Lin Yuan leaned down and looked into Zhao Yun's terrified eyes.

"What I want is to smash this muddy swamp and this broken chair to pieces."

Just then.

A series of chaotic and rapid footsteps came from outside the hall.

The torchlight illuminated the square outside the palace.

Several hundred surviving imperial guards, led by several elderly officials dressed in purple and red robes, rushed to the gate of the Daqing Hall.

These civil officials, who usually spoke fluent classical Chinese, were now furious and their eyes were bloodshot.

"You audacious traitor!"

"Release His Majesty at once!"

A white-haired Imperial Censor pointed at Lin Yuan inside the hall and roared, his voice cracking with extreme agitation.

"Killing one's ruler is an unforgivable crime!"

"If you dare to harm even a hair on His Majesty's head, you will be punished by Heaven!"

"The heroes of the world will surely tear you to pieces and exterminate your entire clan!"

The old ministers raised their hands, attempting to suppress this rule-breaking madman with the set of etiquette and morality that had ruled the Central Plains for thousands of years.

"Protect the Emperor!"

"Imperial Guards, escort the Emperor!"

"Kill the traitors!"

Hundreds of imperial guards, steeling their resolve, raised their spears and steel swords and charged toward the gates of the Daqing Hall.

Lin Yuan didn't even turn his head.

At the palace gate.

Yang Guo turned around.

He was shirtless, his muscles gleaming with a bronze sheen in the firelight.

He looked at the imperial guards and civil officials who rushed forward, without a trace of pity in his eyes.

"Divine retribution?"

Yang Guo gripped the hilt of the Xuan Tie Heavy Sword with both hands and exerted force from his waist and abdomen.

"I am divine retribution."

The heavy iron sword, weighing eighty or ninety pounds and imbued with the domineering internal force of the Nine Yin Manual, swept out with a piercing sonic boom.

There were no sword techniques or sword energy; the crushing force relied entirely on the weight of the weapon itself.

The heavy sword swung down with a deafening crash.

The dozen or so Imperial Guards at the forefront were smashed in half at the waist by heavy swords, along with their shields.

The armor made of fine steel was extremely fragile in front of the Xuan Tie Heavy Sword.

Severed limbs and broken internal organs sprayed outwards in a fan shape, slamming into the faces of the civil officials behind them.

The Imperial Censor, who had just been shouting for divine retribution, was knocked to the ground by a severed body with half of its intestines still attached.

He wiped the warm blood and flesh from his face, looked at the hell on earth before him, and was so frightened that he lost control of his bladder and scrambled backward.

Yang Guo did not stop.

He dragged his heavy sword down the steps, each swing of the sword bringing with it a storm of blood and gore.

He finally understood the lesson Lin Yuan had taught him.

It's no use reasoning with these people.

They could only hear the sound of swords cutting into bones.

Only by killing them severely and annihilating them will they learn what the real rules are.

Screams, the sound of bones cracking, and the sound of weapons breaking all blended together outside the hall.

Inside the main hall.

As Zhao Yun listened to the sounds of slaughter outside, his last glimmer of hope was completely shattered.

He closed his eyes in despair, his body convulsing violently.

Lin Yuan withdrew his foot from Zhao Yun's shoulder.

He raised his right hand, and dark golden inner flames gathered in his palm.

The extreme compression and high temperature caused the air to distort.

The flames elongated and transformed into a three-foot-long dark gold light sword.

"Don't be an emperor in your next life."

Lin Yuan casually left a comment.

Rotate your wrist.

The dark gold lightsaber drew a dazzling arc in mid-air.

The sound of flesh being cut open was exceptionally clear inside the hall.

A charred cut appeared on Zhao Yun's neck.

His head flew skyward.

No blood gushed out from the severed neck; the extremely high temperature had sealed off all the blood vessels.

The headless corpse swayed and then collapsed limply onto the gold bricks.

Emperor Lizong of the Southern Song Dynasty died as a result.

Lin Yuan reached out with his left hand and firmly grabbed the head that was falling from mid-air.

Zhao Yun's eyes were wide open, still showing the fear and resentment he felt before his death.

Lin Yuan turned around and took out a gray cloth package from his wide sleeves.

That was the head of Kublai Khan, the Mongol Khan, which he had beheaded outside Xiangyang.

Lin Yuan untied the two packages.

He held Kublai Khan's braid and grabbed Zhao Yun's hair.

The true essence of the Tang Dynasty plane burst forth from his fingertips, transforming into two strong, invisible ropes of true energy that passed through the hair buns of the two heads respectively.

Lin Yuan waved his arm.

Two heads soared into the air and flew straight toward the thick, dragon-carved beam of the Daqing Hall.

The ropes of true energy were firmly wrapped around the beams and pillars.

The heads of the Mongol Empire's supreme ruler and the Southern Song Dynasty's emperor, representing the world's former supreme power, were hung side by side on the beams of the Daqing Hall.

Blood dripped down Kublai Khan's severed neck and onto Zhao Yun's headless corpse below.

The screams outside the hall gradually subsided.

Yang Guo, carrying the blood-dripping Xuan Tie Heavy Sword, retreated to either side of the palace gate.

The square outside the palace was covered with mangled corpses.

The surviving civil and military officials and imperial guards knelt in pools of blood, trembling and not daring to breathe.

He turned around and sat down on the blood-stained dragon throne with an air of grandeur.

The gray Taoist robe and the pure gold dragon throne create a striking visual contrast.

Lin Yuan rested his chin on one hand, his dark golden vertical pupils piercing through the palace gates as he looked down at the terrified officials outside.

The strong smell of blood completely masked the precious ambergris that was originally in the hall.

"The old rules are dead."

Lin Yuan's voice drowned out the thunder in the sky and reached everyone's ears.

"From this day forward, I will set the rules for this world."

.......

After thinking for a long time, Xiao Qiu decided that the next world would be Feng Yun, and then the Legend of Sword and Fairy 1.

Because Douluo Continent is indeed difficult to write, and many readers have objections, I apologize.

Thank you so much for your support!