Chapter 171 — Eleven

At that very moment, ahead of him, Lin Jinghong had already brought his sword down out of empty air, keening toward him, azure radiance like lightning piercing the sky. Ming Li's face darkened; he retreated three steps, and the Soul-Devouring Demonic Staff chopped down head-on, striking squarely upon the Dragon Slaying Sword's blade.

Lin Jinghong's body shook violently; he felt a blood-reeking malevolent qi of utter strangeness surge over from that black staff that looked like a dark-iron rod, together with an eerie drawing power that tugged at his very essence-blood, about to surge outward—almost beyond his control.

Lin Jinghong paled with fright, knowing it for the supremely evil, supremely inauspicious treasure in Ming Li's hand; yet his nature was staunch, and he was utterly unafraid—instead of retreating he advanced, the Dragon Slaying Sword like a swimming dragon beneath the blade, rearing up in reverse, heedless of his own bared chest, driving straight at Ming Li's face.

Ming Li's gaze flickered. If he struck now, though he would surely be gravely wounded himself, he was wholly certain he could kill Lin Jinghong. Yet gazing at that familiar face, a vision flashed through Ming Li's heart like lightning—the two of them at play as boys—and then, Biluo's face.

In this world, how many people are left that I can cherish, who still live among men?

As if mocking himself, he asked this with a faint bitter smile, drew back the Soul-Devouring Demonic Staff, and sprang into the air to evade that crisis of a hair's breadth. Yet his bitter smile, seen through Lin Jinghong's eyes, seemed like open mockery, and enraged him all the more.

Just then, Ming Li, suspended in midair, suddenly trembled and looked into the distance, where a white figure came drifting over swift as lightning. When that person saw the state of the field, the figure too seemed to shudder violently, and upon a face of peerless beauty appeared an expression of mingled shock and joy, of sorrow and gladness impossible to tell apart, and even the voice trembled faintly:

"You... it really is you..."

It was Lu Xueling.

Upon her snow-white cheeks, at some unknown moment, for the first time in her life, two tears had quietly slipped down before others.

That man stared at her in astonishment, descending slowly through the air—so familiar a face, the longing carved into her heart for how many years?

When she had thought him dead after all, what grief and agony had been hers! Were there no others present now, she would have flung herself into his arms and wept her fill.

Who would choose a lifetime of lonely bitterness?

Who would choose to pass the days alone?

Were love not so deep it cannot be contained, how could a tender heart turn a hundredfold and grow cold as frost!

Ming Li seemed somewhat dazed as well; he opened his mouth as if to say something, yet no words came out. But just then, behind him, Lin Jinghong had not stopped—the Dragon Slaying Sword like wind and fire, with a great shout, came sweeping on once more.

Ming Li started awake and whirled to meet the foe, but had already lost the initiative; the azure radiance dazzled bright, about to reach him, and Ming Li's face flooded with malevolent qi as the Blood-devouring Pearl in an instant turned red.

At that hair's-breadth juncture, suddenly, as if from some memory of long ago, something stirred faintly back to life.

A pale hand reached over from beside him and closed around Ming Li's wrist. Ming Li's body trembled; suddenly all the strength in him seemed to vanish, and a passion about to burst forth from his deepest core surged into his heart, a humming in the depths of his mind, and he jerked his head around, a cry of "Biluo!" on the verge of his lips.

But he broke off in astonishment—the one before him, white robes fluttering, was Lu Xueling.

"Clang—"

Like a phoenix crying through the nine heavens, clear and sweet, the Heavenly Dipper Divine Sword flowed forth from its sheath like autumn water, and with one strike turned aside the irresistible Dragon Slaying Sword—and Lu Xueling herself stood before Ming Li.

Upon that delicate, beautiful face was boundless tenderness—and what did she care for all the world besides?

Lin Jinghong shouted in fury, "Junior Sister Lu, have you gone mad?"

Lu Xueling's body trembled, as if startled awake from a dream; then she turned her head silently and looked at Ming Li, her gaze blurred and soft, and with a faint smile she slowly released his hand.

"Gone mad..." Lu Xueling smiled faintly, her eyes seeming to hold only Ming Li's image, and said softly, "I must have gone mad long ago, I think!"

Ming Li was silent; the malevolent qi upon his face scattered, leaving only an expression of pain that swept across his features, and he bowed his head in silence.

Lin Jinghong was struck dumb; for a moment, the field fell silent.

At that very moment, suddenly from the heavens came an earth-shaking roar, and the mountain range shook violently; even with the cultivation of the three of them, they could not keep their footing.

All three were startled and raised their eyes to the sky, and saw that above the clouds, that epochal catastrophe had at last reached its final moment.

********

Blazing white light, dazzling to the eye; no one could any longer make out the figure within that halo. People saw only that the brilliant radiance lit up the whole firmament, until even the rising sun at the horizon finally lost its color.

And across the whole sky, the Immortal-Slaying Sword Formation, once so grandiose, now had only a single master sword left—yet its latent might seemed greater than the sword shadows that had filled the heavens. Ever more blazing white light shot from the radiance around True Man Dao Yan onto the master sword; the whole sword's color shifted from seven hues to one, from single white to pure white, its radiance in ten thousand rays, like a mad sword about to cleave the heavens and be gone.

In the wild wind, the Beast Sovereign stood towering above the clouds, gazing at that divine sword ahead which did not seem as though it ought to appear in the mortal world; upon his savage face there was now a trace of bewilderment.

Beneath the expectant gazes of countless people, amid the cheers of countless people as if at a carnival, the vast blazing divine sword stirred slowly and turned about to face the Beast Sovereign. In but a moment's work, the black qi around the Beast Sovereign was driven back several zhang by that white light, as if by natural enmity.

Deep within the white light, someone seemed to be gasping deeply, voice hoarse, like a beast's low growl, a cornered beast's roar.

The Beast Sovereign fixed his eyes on the divine sword and that mass of white light ahead; after a long while he suddenly burst into loud laughter. His voice was hoarse and unpleasant to begin with, and now laughing aloud it was all the more grating; all who heard it turned their heads.

The Beast Sovereign laughed, his manner frenzied, as though in his mind there were some thing in the world most laughable of all; yet after all he only laughed wildly, and said not a word more.

In the heavens the wild wind grew ever more bitter and shrill, and the Immortal-Slaying Divine Sword's might grew ever greater; from some unknown moment, as if a voice came from the realms of heaven and the courts of the underworld, softly chanting a mysterious incantation, it began to echo between heaven and earth.

That mass of blazing white light suddenly rose into the air, and came to rest upon the hilt of the ten-thousand-rayed Immortal-Slaying master sword; almost at the same instant, the Immortal-Slaying Sword Formation was unleashed, with the momentum of splitting the heavens—that mad sword came howling, seemingly slow, yet there was no place in heaven or earth left to hide.

Meeting gods, it slays gods; meeting immortals, it slays immortals!

In all the world today, nothing else possessed such momentum.