Chapter 204 — The Broken Sword

All the ghost-arrows seemed in that instant to lose their aim, sliding wide past him with a ceaseless sharp whistling as they flew off to the sides. The Wild Wolf Daoist and the others went pale; Xiao Wan's face whitened too. Seeing that black figure about to close on her, she clapped her hands sharply together before her breast, and at once, under the urging of her art, the black skull howled and shrank to nearly half its size—but in the same breath it interposed itself before her. The seven blood-jade shards, red light flickering, spun wildly, and from the skull's two eyes a sheet of red light spilled out in an instant, cutting off the stranger's approach.

The mysterious man gave a humph; it seemed that even one of his cultivation held some scruple against that sheet of red light, for he checked himself abruptly and halted. Xiao Wan, for her part, was out of danger for the moment—but then, for no discernible reason, her whole body shuddered as though her vital essence had been grievously wounded, a shadow of black flitting across her face, and a moment later both the art at her hands and the black skull before her began faintly to tremble.

Even the ghost-arrows she commanded were at once affected, turning from their earlier shrieking, unstoppable force to something feeble and weak; and the sheet of red light she had cast now, in the strain upon her face, shivered at last and scattered away.

Strangely, once Xiao Wan's strength suddenly failed, the mysterious man did not attack again. He stood still instead, gazing at the fading girl across from him, a flicker of cold light passing through his eyes.

The Wild Wolf Daoist was frantic, unable to fathom how Xiao Wan, who a moment before had seemed so soundly on top, should suddenly collapse as though her essence were spent. He rushed to steady her swaying form, and the moment he took hold of her he was badly startled: her body was deathly cold, and within that chill a weird, unfathomable ghost-force and demonic qi hissed out from her, as though seeking someone to devour.

Thankfully the sensation faded quickly as Xiao Wan slumped down, strengthless. The Wild Wolf Daoist did not dare be careless; he eased her slowly to the ground. Zhou Yixuan came over in silence, studied her face closely, shook his head with a sigh, and said nothing.

Xiao Wan looked utterly spent now, as though she could not even speak. The black skull in the air thinned gradually and at last dissolved, leaving only the seven blood-jade shards returned to their plain and ordinary look; they hung a moment in the air, then fell, striking the flagstones before Xiao Wan with several clear, ringing notes.

The mysterious man looked at Xiao Wan and said suddenly, "This 'Blood Soul' art—how long has she trained in it?"

Zhou Yixuan walked slowly forward and set himself before Xiao Wan, blocking the man's line of sight to her. The stranger looked at him, and Zhou Yixuan said mildly, "Barely a month, no more."

The mysterious man was silent a while; the two red points in his eyes had somehow dimmed greatly once more, and as they weakened, he seemed to take on a little more of the human about him, and the savage aura upon his body thinned as well.

Zhou Yixuan's brows drew together. He had traveled far and wide, and few in all the world could match his experience and discernment; he had naturally marked the strangeness about this man. Thoughtfulness crept into his eyes, and then, as though something had occurred to him, he suddenly glanced again toward the ruined house.

In the cold night wind that derelict house stood alone, broken and forlorn, showing not the slightest anomaly—and yet Zhou Yixuan's expression as he looked at it was most peculiar, with something like anticipation buried in it.

The mysterious man was silent a moment. His voice was as flat as ever, but into the gaze he bent upon the space behind Zhou Yixuan there had come a measure of unexpected admiration. "A fine natural gift," he said. "A pity it was spent on a trifling ghost-path art."

Zhou Yixuan turned his eyes to him. "Honored sir," he said, "we meant you no offense. We came here tonight by mistake and with no other design, and we want no quarrel with you. If there is nothing else, please let the three of us go."

The mysterious man drew his gaze slowly back and looked at Zhou Yixuan. He gave a cold laugh. "Came here by mistake—you say that lightly enough. Who's to say you aren't—"

Halfway through, the man's body gave a slight shudder and the words broke off. Zhou Yixuan started; then he saw it plain: upon the face shrouded in black, within the eye sockets, the two points of red light were slowly kindling again.

The savage aura rose anew, closing formlessly over everything, an oppression over all things, worse than before rather than less.

Zhou Yixuan's face went stark. He flung himself back a step, hauled the strengthless Xiao Wan up with one hand, and cried urgently to the astonished Wild Wolf Daoist: "Quick—quick, scatter and run, save whoever can be saved—"

The Wild Wolf Daoist seemed to understand something too, but before he could open his mouth, the darkness ahead suddenly thickened, yin winds surged, and a vast shadow came sweeping down out of the sky to cover them where they stood, shutting off every path of escape.

The Wild Wolf Daoist gave a great shout and threw himself forward, pinning Xiao Wan beneath him and shielding her with his own body. Zhou Yixuan froze an instant, the tangled feelings on his old face shifting again and again—but in a heartbeat that terrible darkness fell upon them like the vault of heaven itself come down to earth, a crushing weight no power could withstand, roaring down upon them as though ten thousand fathoms of Mount Tai pressed atop their heads, and in an instant more they would be ground to powder.

And then, in that flash of light and fire, at the very verge of death, a red gleam kindled suddenly within the ruined house. Someone seemed to bellow in fury out of the darkness; the light swelled in an instant, like anger dammed too long, and in a blink pierced the dark, becoming a colossal pillar of radiance blinding-bright, bursting forth by main force from the depths of that ruined house.

What followed was a thunderous roar: the whole house was blown asunder in a heartbeat by a mighty force, countless clods of earth and shards of tile blasted skyward amid the din. Red light blazed like a roaring conflagration, and a figure, become a giant dragon, tore across the dark void, arriving with the force of thunder and ten thousand jun, hurtling at the mysterious man.

The uncanny shadow that had been about to grind Zhou Yixuan, Xiao Wan, and the Wild Wolf Daoist to dust was sucked back all at once, like a great whale drawing in water; the crushing pressure vanished in an instant, and all three felt the world spin beneath them, their heads swimming without cease.

And there in the distance, meeting that onrushing figure of light, the mysterious man seemed greatly angered; the blood-red in his eyes deepened, and abruptly he thrust both hands out before him, a wall of black shadow congealing in an instant to hold back that blazing red light by sheer force.

But with both sides straining to the full, the boundary where red light met black shadow seemed to turn white-hot, giving off a ceaseless weird hissing shriek; seen from afar, the very scenery around them began to vaporize, waves of scalding heat rolling and rising, drifting little by little up into the sky.

And by now the two mysterious figures could no longer be made out clearly at all.

On such a calm night, in such a ruined mortuary—men of such profound cultivation, fighting here to the death!