Chapter 51

"Little brother, you are wise. If you are willing to surrender to the Mongols, this poor monk is willing to personally recommend you to the Fourth Prince," the monk praised.

The commander of this Mongol army is none other than the Fourth Prince, Kublai.

Kublai, in the Mongol Empire, is a person of great importance, second only to the Khan and above all others, not someone an ordinary person can easily meet.

Yet this man said he would personally recommend to Kublai, speaking as if it were a trivial matter, showing no concern at all.

Yang Guo's heart sank, knowing he had encountered a significant figure in the Mongol army, and also a formidable martial artist.

After the trials of the army and the baptism of the battlefield, today's Yang Guo was no longer the inexperienced youth he once was.

From the man's attire, it was clear he was not from the Central Plains.

"Is it a monk of the Esoteric School?" Yang Guo asked solemnly.

In the world, the only monks who stood on the side of the Mongols were those of the Esoteric School.

"This poor monk is Jinlun. I have met you, young brother Yang," Jinlun said with a smile, not taking Yang Guo's readiness for battle seriously.

He had clearly been there for a long time and even knew Yang Guo's surname.

Yang Guo's eyes narrowed slightly, seemingly motionless, but his entire body was on high alert. He would launch an attack immediately if this monk made any wrong move.

However, Yang Guo also knew that he would likely struggle to match this monk.

"When the Esoteric School's martial arts reach a high level, the top of the head will be slightly indented. Master, your top of the head is deeply sunken, indicating that you have reached the pinnacle of the Esoteric School's martial arts," Yang Guo said gravely.

Jinlun suppressed his emotions and said, "Little brother is indeed well-versed and knowledgeable. Not only do you understand the current state of the world, but you also have knowledge of the Esoteric School."

His words implied that he acknowledged the truth of Yang Guo's statement.

"Brother Yang."

"Captain Yang."

The remaining Song soldiers gathered behind Yang Guo but did not act rashly.

From Yang Guo's conversation with Jinlun, they could tell that this man was no ordinary person.

Yang Guo raised his left hand and said without turning back, "You go first."

"Captain, we will go together."

"I will never abandon the captain alone."

Upon hearing Yang Guo's words, the soldiers were stirred, but a few of them turned pale.

They were not worried about their own lives but were astute enough to sense the helplessness and the intention to stay behind in Yang Guo's words.

Yang Guo ignored them and said to Jinlun, "Master is a transcendent being. Surely you will not harm them, right?"

Jinlun's gaze swept over the remaining Song soldiers, and he said, "If little brother agrees to surrender, these people can be spared. Compared to little brother, they are of no value. However, if little brother wants to stay behind to cover their retreat, you are mistaken. After killing so many Mongol soldiers, if I let you escape from my hands, how can I still have the face to be the Mongol Imperial Preceptor?"

"Mongol Imperial Preceptor."

"This bald monk is the Mongol Imperial Preceptor."

Everyone was shocked upon hearing this, even Yang Guo's body trembled.

No one had expected that the monk before them was actually the Mongol Imperial Preceptor.

On the grasslands, the strong prey on the weak, and only the strong are revered.

To become the Mongol Imperial Preceptor, one could be considered the strongest in Mongolia.

In their group, although Yang Guo still had the strength to fight, the previous battle had already drained much of his energy.

The others, having survived a great calamity, had little strength left.

Their group could now be aptly described as a band of defeated soldiers.

Even if they joined forces, given Jinlun's confidence, they would likely still be no match for him.

However, from the moment they chose to join the Power Gang, these people had already put their lives on the line.

When a person is not afraid of death, how can death be used to intimidate them?

"Ha ha, Captain, it seems we can't leave. Why don't we try to see if we can take down this Mongol Imperial Preceptor together? Even if we can't take him down, giving him a good beating would be satisfying."

Upon hearing Jinlun reveal his identity, someone immediately clenched their fists and said.

If they could kill the Mongol Imperial Preceptor, it would be a great achievement.

They did not seek wealth and honor, but they cared about their reputation.

Of course, they also knew that since Jinlun dared to appear alone, he must have the confidence to back it up.

Taking him down would be extremely difficult.

But even the worst outcome would be death.

Who among those who dared to come to Xiangyang feared death?

Yang Guo's lips curled into a smile, and he said, "Very well, I will hold him off for a while. Brothers, quickly recover your strength."

Yang Guo immediately brandished his spear and stood in front of Jinlun, his eyes showing no fear.

To die before achieving one's goal, this often brings tears to the eyes of heroes.

However, even in death, one must take a few of the enemy's teeth.

Not being a match for Jinlun does not mean surrendering without a fight.

Only by fighting can one prevail.

Jinlun sighed deeply and said, "Amitabha, little brother, you have chosen a path of death."

"Since I dared to come to Xiangyang, I never intended to choose a path of life," Yang Guo said coldly.

Jinlun shook his head, his voice turning cold, "Beyond redemption, this poor monk can only use your heads to honor the fallen Mongol warriors."

"Then you must first ask my spear," Yang Guo's right hand transformed his spear into a myriad of shadows, blocking all of Jinlun's attack routes.

Jinlun merely smiled faintly, moving neither quickly nor slowly, and simply threw a punch forward.

Yang Guo's eyes flashed with intense light, and all the spear shadows turned into nothingness. In the instant the shadows disappeared, the spear tip roared silently, heading straight for Jinlun's fist.

Jinlun did not dodge or avoid, as if he did not even see Yang Guo's spear, and was directly hit by the spear tip.

The spear and fist met.

Time seemed to freeze at that moment, and the valley was silent.

A moment later, Yang Guo spat blood and retreated, taking seven steps before stabilizing himself. His right hand, holding the spear, trembled uncontrollably, and his tiger's mouth was nearly torn apart, but he did not let go.

"Such great strength," Yang Guo said with a grim expression.

The spear he used was a divine weapon specially sent to him by Zhao Hao. Jinlun, on the other hand, was unarmed.

He should have had the advantage, but when he truly struck Jinlun, Yang Guo felt an endless surge of power from the other's fist, transmitted through his spear and into himself.

His martial arts had reached a high level, and Zhao Hao had not relaxed his training over the years, nor had he wasted his time.

However, compared to this monk, Yang Guo felt his own powerlessness.

"Little brother's spear technique is excellent. Who is your master?" Jinlun looked at the trace of blood on his right fist with a strange expression.

Yang Guo's cultivation seemed ordinary to him, but this spear technique was indeed interesting, managing to leave a mark on his fist.

"If he were here, your right arm would already be gone," Yang Guo said gravely.

Jinlun smiled faintly and said indifferently, "If little brother does not wish to say, then there is no need to say."

"He did not lie to you. You should be grateful that you did not meet him," a cold voice sounded from behind Jinlun.

Jinlun's face immediately turned very ugly.

PS: Thank you for the generous support from "name doesn't matter" and "enough characters." As expected, the Three Rivers vote has been overtaken. Haha.

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