Chapter 82 — Ten

Zhang Qingyue threw back his head and howled at the sky, his eyes blood-red, then hurled himself into the fray and fought his way to Bili's side. The Black Iron Staff blazed crimson, as though it too were exulting, and together with its master it laughed wildly as it lunged toward death and blood.

Lu Xueqi and the others fell back one after another; whatever else, facing Zhang Qingyue they still could not bring themselves to strike with full force. But Zhang Qingyue now seemed utterly lost to madness, his eyes burning with boundless hatred, every move aimed at taking life, and within moments he had driven them all back.

Bili was overjoyed; she seized Zhang Qingyue and said, "Let's go!"

The two of them shot into the air and flew out of the hall.

And at that moment in the sky above, qi-swords filled the heavens like mountains and seas, and the Shixian Sword Formation had already begun its assault on the demonic sect. This time Daoist Daoyan seemed to have cast all caution aside: not only did the rain of swords come screaming down, but the enormous seven-colored master sword in the sky was itself driven by invisible incantatory force, rumbling downward with the momentum to split heaven and shatter earth.

The power of that formation's master sword was no trifling thing; in a single strike, flesh and blood flew across a span of several zhang, and nearly ten men were annihilated before they could even cry out. Even the residual force of it was enough—Yuyang Zi, unable to dodge in time, had his left arm sheared clean off and fled shrieking through the air as a bolt of piercing light.

At the same time, high in the sky, Daoist Daoyan was utterly spent; he swayed and nearly fell from the water qilin, barely managing to hold himself upright. Looking down, he saw that in that brief space the demonic sect had for the most part fled, though a few still remained on Jietian Peak—and the last of them was Zhang Qingyue, with Bili urgently pulling him away in flight.

Hovering in midair, Daoyan had already seen Zhang Qingyue fall into the demonic path; in the exchange just now with Facheng, Lu Xueqi and the others, his strikes had been ruthless and without mercy, and his manner was now deranged—plainly beyond all reasoning.

Yet this man carried within him the true arts of both the Canglan Sect and the Fanyin Temple, and in his hand was an evil relic such as the world had never seen. If the tiger were loosed back to the mountains, the slaughter he might wreak in days to come would surely far exceed that of any common demonic cultivator.

Daoyan sighed softly in his heart, but in that instant his mind was made up. Even if the world should speak ill of him hereafter, he could never leave this peerless calamity alive.

Thereupon Daoist Daoyan gathered his last reserves of spiritual power; in an instant every colored qi-sword in the sky blazed with light, and the formation's seven-colored master sword in particular abruptly swelled by half again, then came roaring down with a crash that shook heaven and earth, plunging straight at Zhang Qingyue like an ancient god in a fury!

"Ah!" It was not only the demonic sect who paled; on the righteous side, every soul in the Fanyin Temple and the Canglan Sect turned ashen. Tian Buhui and Su Wan went white, and Tian Lingsu gave a shriek and fainted away.

Beside them, Lu Xueqi clutched the Tianya Divine Sword tightly, her face bloodless, and even the Tianya in her hand trembled faintly.

That heaven-shattering sword struck down from overhead; before it even reached the ground, a rumbling roar burst forth, the earth for a zhang around Zhang Qingyue split apart in every direction, and a howling gale engulfed him—his death was certain.

Zhang Qingyue glared with bloodshot eyes, pinned by the formless sword-qi, unable to break free; grief and hatred surged beyond all checking in his heart as he watched that dread giant sword come screaming down with boundless killing intent, and he opened his mouth and screamed.

"Aaaaaaah—"

The sound shook the wilds and changed the color of heaven and earth, yet the Shixian marvel of a sword was like some heartless thing born to annihilate gods and buddhas alike, and it still came at him without mercy; in another instant Zhang Qingyue would be a soul beneath that blade, his body ground to dust.

Then, all at once, the world fell silent—even the earth-shaking momentum of the Shixian Sword Formation was hushed in an instant...

That gentle, pale hand, once so familiar in the passage of years, appeared at Zhang Qingyue's side; with a faint, clear tinkle of bells, it pushed him aside.

A voice that seemed to have lain sleeping a thousand, ten thousand years now quietly arose, murmuring softly for the beloved of her heart:

Spirits of the nine underworlds, gods and demons of every heaven, take my flesh and blood as sacrifice...

She stood in the raging wind, her faintly reddened eyes fixed on Zhang Qingyue, and on her pale face there seemed to be a faint smile.

The wind caught her water-green robes and set them dancing, snapping and streaming—the most desolate beauty in all the world.

Zhang Qingyue's heart sank.

Suddenly he opened his mouth to scream, but the gale drove it back down his throat; he sprang up like a madman and lunged toward Bili, only to be flung back by some mysterious force, and from his blood-red eyes red tears flowed down his cheeks.

That woman in the wind spread both arms wide, facing the rain of swords, facing the giant sword that had stolen all the majesty of heaven and earth.

...Through three lives and seven ages, forever fallen into Yama's realm, for love alone—though I die, no regret...

The raging wind abruptly shifted direction, becoming a vast vortex swirling about Bili; that gentle, beautiful woman was lifted by the gale into midair, rising to meet the seven-colored master sword.

She was, in that moment, the only radiance in all the world!

An instant...

Countless blood-red mists burst from her body in an instant, congealing before her into a wall of blood clear and bright as red jade; at the same time, from her pale face drifted nine faint wisps of smoke, which melted into the blood wall.

The blood wall seethed in an instant, burning on like the blazing fire of a love beyond all reason, blazing with all her passion and despair, bursting forth in radiance beyond compare—and surging upward against heaven itself!

And it collided with the Shixian master sword with a thunderous roar!

The radiance was so dazzling that no one could open their eyes.

A crash beyond all words shook the whole vault of heaven; the irresistible Shixian sword was hurled back, and the qi-swords filling the sky fell into disarray. And on Jietian Peak the mountain itself heaved, rocks flying wildly, and countless enormous fissures split its body as though it had been slashed apart—as if doomsday had come.

Dimly, a slender, sorrowful figure drifted slowly down from midair.

Heaven and earth suddenly fell utterly silent, and there was only one voice, howling as though its heart were being torn apart.

"No—!"

Endless darkness shrouded the whole world; he trembled in that darkness, not daring to move, not daring to face it, not daring to wake!

But in the end, he woke.

His trembling hand slowly clenched, then released; slowly he opened his eyes, as though even this required all the courage he had.

An ordinary stone chamber, simply and plainly furnished. Slowly he rose from the bed, daring to think of nothing—he did not even glance again at the Black Iron Staff lying at hand. As though led by some guidance, he walked toward the door and slowly went out.

Outside was a long corridor, where many people moved quietly about their business; but whoever it was, the moment they saw him they at once stepped aside and bowed their heads.