Chapter 94 — Strange Blooms

Behind him still rose that immense wall of miasma. By all ordinary reckoning, the foul vapors of common mountains and ill-omened waters would subside and fall still once rain came, yet this venomous miasma within the Dead Marsh seemed not to fear the rain at all. Let the wind blow and the rain beat, it stood towering and unmoved.

Ming Li slowly turned his head and looked ahead. Within the inner marsh, unexpectedly, grew a dense forest. As far as the eye could see, amid the bitter wind and driving rain, the woods spread endlessly, no telling how far. And the rain was heavy; though visibility was far better than in the miasma, he still could not see very far.

"Chee-chee, chee-chee!"

Suddenly the branches beside him rustled, and Xiao Hui—who had slipped away earlier—came bounding back along the boughs and in two or three leaps landed on Ming Li's shoulder. In its hands were several wild fruits, plucked from who knew where. It bared its teeth in a grin and handed one to Ming Li, while clutching three or four more in its own paws and stuffing them into its mouth.

Ming Li smiled faintly, took it, and bit into it. It tasted green and astringent, yet had a flavor all its own.

By now the rain was growing heavier and the thunder unceasing. Ming Li did not use his artifact to ward it off, letting the rain soak him through. Xiao Hui sat on his shoulder, its fur gradually growing wet, but it seemed not to care in the least, concerned only with the fruit by its mouth, munching away happily with a "chomp-chomp." Its long tail swayed to and fro behind Ming Li, back and forth, back and forth—a rather amusing sight.

Ming Li slowly finished the fruit in his hand, then suddenly said softly, "Xiao Hui, you recognized her too, didn't you?"

Xiao Hui, still chewing its fruit, mumbled something indistinct, its monkey eyes darting a few glances at Ming Li.

Ming Li did not seem to expect any answer from the monkey. He only went on, as though to himself, "Why didn't she kill me? Doesn't she hate the demon cult above all else?"

"Boom!"

Xiao Hui did not answer, but a thunderclap rang out across the sky.

Ming Li slowly raised his head to the heavens. The rain filled the air, like knives, like swords, myriad and countless, pouring down...

His body gave a slight shudder, and suddenly his thoughts went flying, as though he had returned to that night in his youth, when he and that kind-faced old monk had stood outside the village and the monk had spoken to him in a calm, gentle voice.

That scene was carved into the depths of his heart. All these years, it had not faded in the slightest.

His hands clenched, his nails digging deep into his palms, and even his body began to tremble with agitation. At that moment, the Soul Devourer nestled in his sleeve, as always, began to glow almost at the same instant, and the familiar chill coursed through his whole body. The murderous malevolence of the Blood-Devouring Bead seemed to gather little by little in his eyes.

On his shoulder, Xiao Hui gave an uneasy cry.

In the sky, a bolt of lightning split the heavens. Ming Li gave a fierce whistle and sprang into the air. Mid-flight, crimson light blazed from his whole body; he stretched out his right arm, and the Soul Devourer was already in his hand. The dark-green radiance gathered in the rain into a huge blade of light, and came crashing down.

By now his eyes were full of blood-red light, his face all killing intent, his features contorted, a low growl in his throat like a wild beast.

The vast green blade came sweeping down, and the great tree he had been standing on a moment before was split clean in two from top to bottom, crashing down to either side.

Boom!

Another thunderclap rolled across the sky.

Xiao Hui leapt aside and watched him in silence.

Ming Li knelt on one knee in the filthy, rain-soaked mud, his right hand gripping the Soul Devourer, his whole body trembling, a savage light flickering in his eyes, while his face was full of agony.

Who could know the suffering of his fall...

A gentle, balanced breath of pure yang rose faintly within his body.

At the spot on his rain-soaked sleeve over his right arm, a round point of faint light suddenly kindled. This pure yang energy, utterly harmonious, flowed out from the "Profound Fire Mirror" bound to his right arm and entered his body, gradually holding back the malevolent force of the Blood-Devouring Bead.

After a long while, the blood-red light in his eyes slowly faded and his features calmed. In turn, the radiance of the artifacts given off by the Soul Devourer and the Profound Fire Mirror also gradually weakened until it vanished.

Ming Li rose slowly, as though he had been through a great battle, his expression weary. Over these ten years he had practiced the demonic heavenly scriptures day and night, and the innate malevolence of the Blood-Devouring Bead had steeped him day and night as well. How many times had he come as close as today to being controlled by the bead's demonic aura? But for one thing, he still had within him the Taiji Profound Clarity Way and the Great Brahma Prajna, both supreme true methods of righteous cultivation, which barely let him hold out.

But most crucial of all, whenever his mind was on the very brink of scattering, the Profound Fire Mirror, that other mysterious artifact he carried, would always give off a wondrous, pure, and balanced energy of firm yang, pulling him back from the path of total immersion in slaughter and the demonic way.

Yet even he did not know how much longer he could withstand this inborn demonic thing, the Blood-Devouring Bead. And for him, whenever he thought of the past, thought of Bili, that torment was truly unbearable pain. Had his temperament not been so unyielding, he would long since have gone mad.

And of these things, even one as shrewd as the Nether King had never noticed. He had no idea that his most capable subordinate lived day and night on the edge of madness.

He slowly rose to his feet and opened his mouth—only then did he realize his voice had gone hoarse. "Xiao Hui, let's go."

Xiao Hui blinked, obediently leapt back, and in two or three bounds was on his shoulder.

Ming Li gently stroked Xiao Hui's fur. His lips moved, but in the end he said nothing. He drew a deep breath, set his feet in motion, and walked toward the depths of the forest ahead.

Within the inner marsh of the Dead Marsh, shrouded in the endless rain, there seemed nothing left in heaven and earth to hear but the wind and the rain. The ancient, dense forest lay utterly still; rain beat upon the leaves and branches, and drops slid away.

In the sky, another thunderclap!

The rain had fallen for the better part of an hour, and still showed no sign of stopping.

Lin Jinghong wiped a hand across his face, brushing away the droplets, but in a moment more rain came pelting down. He gave a faint, bitter smile and gave up the effort.

He was alone in the ancient forest; before him, behind him, to either side, there was no one but himself. To be alone in this wild, perilous, and unfamiliar place gave rise to a strange, indefinable dread.

The Canglan Sect had entered the inner marsh together with a band of outstanding young masters from the righteous sects, the Brahma Sound Temple and the Burning Cloud Valley. But while crossing that wall of miasma, first came a sudden and unexpected thing: they ran into a strange eye of the storm in the middle, which threw them all into disarray. Before they could steady themselves, a monstrous beast of unimaginable size suddenly appeared within the miasma and passed right through their midst.

Because the miasma obscured their sight, none of them could make out the creature's appearance, and it seemed merely to be passing by without harming them. But its body was simply too vast. Though all of them were highly cultivated, in the sudden crisis each fled in panic, and caught as they were in the miasma storm, they were scattered just like that.