Golden Wheel Dharma King

The feathered robe made him impervious to blades and spears. Combined with his Thirteen Horse Strength, enough to battle supernatural ability experts, Fang Xuan was a war god on the battlefield.

No one could stop him.

Wherever the Pu Dao in his hand swept, it left a stretch of emptiness. No matter how quickly the army filled the gap, it was useless.

"Devil! He's a devil!"

"Eternal Heaven above, save me!"

"He's a devil! He can't be killed! Run, run!"

That inhuman power filled the Mongol Yuan soldiers with terror. Even in the face of their officers' commands, they screamed and fled.

This naturally alerted Great Khan Mongke in the central army.

Mongke frowned and roared, "What happened?"

"Devil! There's a devil!"

"Hm?"

Seeing the Thousand-Man Commander already on the verge of collapse, Mongke was puzzled. Guarded by soldiers at his side, he climbed the platform and looked into the distance. On the left flank of the army, he saw a blood-red figure wielding a long blade, invincible in every direction, advancing toward the center of the army step by step.

No one could stop him wherever he passed.

With each slash, several men died.

With nothing but a blade in hand, he had cut his way through an army of several hundred thousand, with no one capable of opposing him.

Even Great Khan Mongke was startled by this sight. "There is such a fierce general in this world? Do any of you know who he is?"

No one around him answered.

A white-haired general to his left cupped his hands. "Your Majesty, this man's martial arts are formidable. He must be one of those Central Plains martial artists. Have the National Preceptor take action and kill him."

"That will not do, Your Majesty. The National Preceptor must deal with Guo Jing. Better to let us Enshrined Experts act. We will surely take the bandit leader's head," shouted a fat old man holding an abacus.

The National Preceptor was the Golden Wheel Dharma King. His cultivation was profound and his martial prowess immensely powerful. If they let him act as well, they truly would not even get a sip of soup. How could they then distinguish themselves before Great Khan Mongke?

Mongke nodded. "Very well. This man... it would be even better if he could be captured alive."

"Yes, Your Majesty."

Overjoyed, the fat old man accepted the order and led the other four Enshrined Experts toward Fang Xuan.

By then, the Pu Dao in Fang Xuan's hand was already full of chips, while his feathered robe was stained crimson with blood, making him look especially terrifying.

The surrounding Mongol Yuan soldiers trembled as though they had seen a ghost. As Fang Xuan strode toward them, they only dared retreat, not advance.

He tossed away his broken blade and casually picked up another curved saber from the ground.

"Haha, you brat! You merely have a bit of brute strength, yet you dare charge into the camp alone. You truly do not know how to write the word death. His Majesty is merciful and will spare your life, so hurry up and sur—"

"Shut up."

Fang Xuan flicked the curved saber he had just picked up. A crescent-shaped blade qi shot through the air, and the man who had been speaking was instantly split in two from the brow.

The other four Enshrined Experts halted, their faces turning deathly pale.

"Blade... blade qi."

"This... this is impossible. Even the Five Greats of the world do not possess such cultivation, able to slash out blade qi from thin air."

"Run."

With that, they turned and fled without the slightest hesitation.

Before such an expert, they were like children. They did not even dare think of attacking him.

Tap, tap, tap!

His footsteps landed on mud soaked in blood. The curved saber danced, blade qi crisscrossed, and no one could block him.

Mongol Yuan cavalry came charging on horseback. Tens of thousands of riders thundered forward like war drums; even mountains could be trampled to pieces beneath Ten Thousand Horses Galloping.

Yet Fang Xuan stood before that tidal wave of horses like a lone oar adrift upon the sea.

"Now that's more like it!"

He tossed the curved saber aside and stepped forward with his right fist drawn back.

Wrath of the Wind God.

Dark clouds gathered overhead, and countless raging winds converged behind him. The power of heaven and earth gathered into one body.

A massive azure giant phantom, dozens of meters tall, appeared out of thin air. It assumed the same stance as Fang Xuan, stepping forward and throwing a punch.

Boom!

A deafening explosion rang out. The torrent of cavalry was instantly blasted open by that punch, leaving behind an enormous trench filled with blood-red mud. Fragments of armor, blades, and swords could faintly be seen within it.

The entire battlefield fell silent. Everyone raised their heads to stare at the dozens-of-meters-tall azure giant in the center of the battlefield, as well as the trench before it.

A god.

Clang!

"Eternal Heaven."

Some terrified soldiers threw down their weapons, fell to their knees, and prayed for Eternal Heaven's forgiveness.

Great Khan Mongke's eyes were split wide with fury. He roared at the generals beside him, "Who is he? Who exactly is he?"

Tap, tap, tap!

Fang Xuan stepped through the bloody slurry, his eyes cold as he looked at Great Khan Mongke atop the platform.

"Your Excellency is..."

Swish!

Blade light flashed. The crescent-shaped blade qi dazzled the eyes as it slashed straight toward Great Khan Mongke.

Mongke's face changed drastically. He kept backing away, but the blade qi was too fast, reaching him in the blink of an eye.

Before the sharp blade qi even touched his skin, it brought a stabbing pain. A helpless terror of death rose in his heart, and despair covered his face.

Clang!

A black gear tore through the air and flew before Mongke, blocking the attack.

With a muffled bang, the gear was instantly cleaved into fragments, and the blade qi was exhausted as well.

Buzz, buzz, buzz!

Under the sunlight, a golden streak tore through the air and struck toward Fang Xuan like a blazing sun.

Looking up, Fang Xuan saw a golden wheel, its rim covered in sharp, serrated teeth.

Clang!

Fang Xuan clenched his right hand into a fist and punched the golden wheel.

Amid the clang of metal, the wheel was instantly smashed into scrap metal and fell to one side.

The Golden Wheel Dharma King leaped down from the platform, standing before Mongke with a wary expression.

Fang Xuan also looked curiously at the famous Tibetan Holy Monk, the Golden Wheel Dharma King.

The Golden Wheel Dharma King had a major role in The Return of the Condor Heroes. He was Mongolia's National Preceptor and had studied martial arts in the esoteric Vajra Sect. Clad in yellow robes, extremely tall and thin, with a slightly sunken forehead, he was skilled in wielding five wheels of gold, silver, copper, iron, and lead. Thus, he earned titles such as the "Five-Wheel Dharma King" and the "Golden Wheel Dharma King."

He also cultivated the famed Dragon Elephant Prajna Skill. It was said that each level increased one's strength by that of one dragon and one elephant. Upon reaching the tenth level, one possessed the tremendous strength of ten dragons and ten elephants, with boundless might; every move carried the force of a thousand catties.

That alone was enough to astonish Fang Xuan.

In the Profound Yellow Great World, several thousand catties of strength meant one had reached the realm of Divine Power and possessed One Horse Strength.

The fact that such power could be attained in this Small World showed that this martial arts manual truly had something extraordinary about it.

In Fang Xuan's view, the Dragon Elephant Prajna Skill had even greater potential than the Nine Yin Manual.

"Golden Wheel Dharma King?"

The Golden Wheel Dharma King was slightly taken aback. He had not expected this man to recognize him.

He bowed slightly and recited a Buddhist greeting. "This humble monk, Golden Wheel, greets Your Excellency."

"He does look like a monk, but he is too competitive. Instead of eating vegetarian food, chanting scriptures, meditating, and contemplating Zen properly, he thinks every day about competing for the title of number one under heaven. He's just like Kumārajīva," Fang Xuan commented.

"Does Your Excellency mean the Great Wheel Bright King of Snow Mountain Great Wheel Temple during the Northern Song? How could this humble monk possibly compare to the Great Wheel Bright King?"

As he spoke, hearing the man before him compare him to the Great Wheel Bright King filled the Golden Wheel Dharma King with pride.

What Fang Xuan did not know was that after Kumārajīva's travels through the Central Plains, although he lost all his martial arts, he also attained great enlightenment. He returned to Tubo, devoted himself to studying Buddhist scriptures, and became a generation's eminent monk.