Chapter 30 — Strange Arts
劍問蒼天 · Page 7 of 8
"Boom"—like a thunderclap from the heavens, it burst upon the world, and the whole of Jietian Peak seemed to shudder. The blue light recoiled; Lu Xueqi appeared in the sky, gripping Tianxuan tight, but a thread of blood ran slowly from the corner of her mouth.
Below the platform, Master Shuijing rose abruptly to her feet.
In midair, only the howling of the wind remained in Zhang Qingyue's ears; his vision blurred, the crimson blood all but blinding him. Had he been able to hear the cries from without, he would have heard the shocked shouts of the Dazhu Peak party below him.
Su Wan's lips had lost all color. Gazing at her little disciple in the air, now nearly a man of blood, she said in a swift, low voice to Tian Buhui: "Buhui, make Xiaofan yield. Quickly, make him yield."
Tian Buhui's body gave a start. He stared fixedly into the sky and slowly shook his head.
He could feel no more pain. In that air of shifting moment, a thought flashed suddenly through Zhang Qingyue's mind—and then, strangely, another: After I die, will my shijie come to see me? And many years from now, when she is living her happy days, will she have forgotten me too?
He reached up and wiped the blood from the corners of his eyes—and, too, the water.
Lu Xueqi felt pain through her whole body; the qi and blood within her dashed wildly through her shuddering meridians as though they would burst from her flesh and go cheering forth into the hideous green-black demon glare ahead.
This was already the hour of life and death!
This was already the eternal instant!
This beautiful woman stood proud in the raging wind, letting the gale cut at her like a blade, refusing to yield half a step. She raised her head and looked to the heavens.
The wind stopped suddenly, frozen in midair.
Heaven and earth fell silent, halted at this moment.
"Rumble!" A low, distant roar seemed to come from the horizon, echoing through all of heaven and earth.
Lu Xueqi reversed her grip and drew forth the "Divine Sword Tianxuan."
At once the blue radiance that filled the sky dispersed and withdrew, as though a giant dragon were drinking water, all of it drawn onto the blade that shone like autumn water.
On Jietian Peak, all was still.
The Tianxuan of a thousand years of legend had come at last from its sheath!
Lu Xueqi's face was cold as frost. Holding the sword incantation, she trod the seven stars of the Dipper in the empty air, stepping seven paces upon the void; the long sword stabbed suddenly toward heaven, and in an instant not a trace of color remained on her jade-like face. She chanted:
"The nine heavens' dark host, turn to divine thunder.
By the majestic might of Heaven, let the sword draw it down!"
In a moment the clear blue sky darkened. Black clouds surged without cease at the horizon, thunder rumbling, lightning flickering along their edges as they raced across the heavens—a killing stillness, and the great wind rose.
The gale rushed at his face; Zhang Qingyue's lips parted slightly. This scene seemed to have appeared once before, in some memory from long ago. On the ground, from Dao Yan Zhenren down to the elders of every peak, every face was stricken with wonder, and all rose as one, then turned to look at Master Shuijing of Xiaozhu Peak.
After a long while, Tian Buhui said hoarsely: "A fine disciple you've taught."
Master Shuijing paid the others no heed at all. On that face, ever aloof, worry appeared for the first time as she gazed at the two in the sky.
"The Divine Sword Thunder-summoning True Art!" Dao Yan Zhenren slowly withdrew his gaze, deeply shaken within. He had never imagined that among the younger generation of the Canglan Sect there could be such a remarkable talent.
Only—looking at that young woman's face, though she had forced herself to work this peerless art, her body trembled and her face was white as paper; he feared her strength was failing her.