Chapter 164 — The Forbidden Ground

That said, he looked back over his shoulder. Behind the three of them stood several dozen elders and chiefs of the righteous path—some white-haired, some with the air of immortals. These elders of the Canglan Sect and the seniors of the various branches were, one might say, the last fighting strength of the righteous path.

Dao Yan Zhenren was silent a long while, then at last said slowly, "Go down, all of you."

No one spoke. Only, at these words, those final several dozen men nodded slightly or cupped their hands in salute, and then in an instant radiance surged and the last elders of the righteous path rose into the air together, flying down the mountain.

Outside the Yuheng Hall there now stood, besides Dao Yan Zhenren, Reverend Pucheng, and Yun Yifeng, six others—the chiefs of the six branches of the Canglan Sect other than Jietian Peak. For some reason they had, unexpectedly, not joined the battle. Dao Yan Zhenren faced them and nodded. "My friends, the situation has plainly reached a critical pass. That matter we discussed before—I entrust it to you now."

Among the six branch chiefs, the newly installed younger generation such as Qi Hao had always been deferential before him; only Tian Buhui, Zeng Shuchang, and Master Shuijing wore calm expressions. At Dao Yan Zhenren's instruction, the others seemed long since to have known this would come, and showed no astonishment—only a faint shadow seemed to flit across Tian Buhui's face.

The six all bowed to Dao Yan Zhenren, then rose into the air, each flying in a different direction—it seemed they were returning to their own mountain ranges. Only Tian Buhui, for some reason, paused, turned, and cast a glance at Dao Yan Zhenren. Somewhat surprised, Dao Yan Zhenren asked, "Brother Tian, what is it?"

Tian Buhui hesitated, then lowered his voice. "Senior Brother Sect Master, once the Heavenly Mechanism Seal is opened, the malevolence of the Ancient Sword of Immortal Slaying will swell greatly, and its backlash will be irresistible. You must be careful—do not, do not let your late years be dishonored..."

Dao Yan Zhenren was silent a moment, his face grave, then slowly nodded. "Brother Tian, we have known each other many years, and I understand your heart. Rest assured—even should something go wrong, for the sake of all living souls under heaven, I can spare no thought for such things."

A muscle twitched in Tian Buhui's face, but in the end he said no more. He studied Dao Yan Zhenren's countenance, nodded, and with a flick of his sleeve a strange crimson-yellow radiance flashed forth, bearing him up into the sky—toward the direction of Dazhu Peak.

********

The sounds of fierce combat drifting faintly from the front mountain had grown all but inaudible by the back slopes of Jietian Peak. The thin mist had dispersed, birds sang softly, and this place seemed another world altogether. Yet one thing was the same: even in this quiet spot there were still flashing blades and shadows, and bloody, hidden strife.

The emerald Zhanlong Sword gave off a faint, dim glow, its blade seeming to tremble slightly, as though in mourning. The aged old man had lost all vitality and lay quietly on the ground, his head tilted to one side. Kneeling beside him, Lin Jinghong's face was terrifyingly flushed, his eyes shifting through every shade of fury, his teeth clenched deep and tight. He looked silent—yet within that silence lurked a faint trace of madness.

In the shadow of the trees, the black-clad Master Ghost had still not departed. Like a specter he watched Lin Jinghong's back from behind, his gaze passing from Wan Jiangu's lifeless body to Lin Jinghong, and at last to the Zhanlong Sword. Then, as though something had occurred to him, he turned his head and looked toward the Illusory Moon Grotto-Heaven.

That path stretched cold and lonely into the distance, and no movement could be seen upon it.

Beneath the black veil, no one could see Master Ghost's expression.

Lin Jinghong's mind was in utter chaos. The sudden murder of Wan Jiangu had plunged him into a state bordering on madness. Ever since the great upheaval at Qingyun ten years ago, when his honored master, Daoist Cangyan, had turned traitor and fled, Wan Jiangu's sudden appearance—his learning and breadth of spirit—had made him a figure Lin Jinghong revered. For ten years he had cultivated diligently under Wan Jiangu's guidance, and in his heart he had come to regard this most mysterious old man as half teacher, half father, with the deepest respect.

And now this man he revered most had become a corpse, lying there before his very eyes, while he did not even know who the murderer was—let alone avenge him. Grief, agony, and despair lashed at Lin Jinghong's already somewhat extreme temperament, driving him ever closer to madness.

Just then, a strange sound suddenly came from the woods behind him.

Lin Jinghong's whole body jolted, and he whirled to look. The undergrowth stirred, and a figure suddenly flashed out from the forest and in the next breath darted away with the speed of lightning. The speed was astonishing—even with Lin Jinghong's cultivated eyesight he could catch only a blur.

And here, at this time, what did the sudden appearance of this mysterious figure mean?

Lin Jinghong's body moved faster than his mind. Almost in the same instant he seized the Zhanlong Sword and gave chase like the wind and lightning, never once considering how terrifying a man this must be if he truly were the murderer, with the attainment to kill Wan Jiangu. In Lin Jinghong's heart at this moment there was no thought but vengeance. And Wan Jiangu had taught him for ten years that the Zhanlong Sword ever charges forward and never retreats—as should their lives!

The black shadow moved with extreme speed. In a flicker it had left the Ancestral Hall, paused briefly at the three-way fork, and then with a whoosh headed straight onto the little path toward the Illusory Moon Grotto-Heaven. Lin Jinghong burst out in pursuit, eyes blazing as though they would spit fire. Fixing on that dim, elusive figure, he thought no more; his body like lightning, he plunged in an instant onto the path that was meant to be forbidden ground for Qingyun disciples, rushing toward the Illusory Moon Grotto-Heaven.

The mountain wind blew, the tips of the branches swayed gently with a rustling sound, and soon all was silent here again. Only that desolate old man lay quietly on the ground, gazing at the clouds drifting slowly across the sky.

********

Though Lin Jinghong gave chase with all his strength, he still could not overtake that figure. The trees on either side rushed past him, yet the black shadow ahead remained faint and elusive. By now the first heat of his fury had cooled a little, and he could not help feeling a secret alarm.

The mysterious figure's attainment must be high indeed. Yet even so, Lin Jinghong did not slow his pace in the least, still pursuing with all his might—until at a bend ahead the dim black shadow suddenly shot forward, vanished into the dead angle of the mountain's contour, and disappeared from sight.

Alarmed, furious, and anxious, Lin Jinghong threw everything into the chase. His whole body, taut as a bowstring, flew through the air like an arrow loosed from the string, so swift that it whistled shrilly in its passage. Yet when he reached the bend in the mountain, though only a moment had passed, the black shadow had already vanished. Before him stood an ordinary mountain cave, and carved above its mouth were four great characters:

Illusory Moon Grotto-Heaven!