Chapter 69 — The Past
劍問蒼天 · Page 3 of 6
The Nether King was silent a moment, then said slowly, "Yes. I was not in the Holy Hall then, because I had to care for the previous Nether King, but I heard the scene was most ugly. A pity the masters of the Holy Hall had all been sent out in that great battle at Canglan Mountain and were slain or wounded beyond count; otherwise..."
Qinglong suddenly broke in: "I was in the Holy Hall then."
The Nether King's body gave a start; startled, he said, "What? Brother Long, you were in the Holy Hall then?"
Qinglong smiled bitterly. "Yes. And more than that—apart from that great lazybones Xuanwu, Baihu and Zhuque were in the Holy Hall as well."
The Nether King's expression shifted. He forced a laugh and said, "Then why did you not recognize these two just now, Brother Long?"
Qinglong smiled bitterly again. "It is a shameful thing to tell. Back then those five not only charged all the way into the wilds, they even fought their way to the Holy Hall itself. The whole wilderness was shaken, shocked beyond measure. Baihu, Zhuque, and I had always been at odds with the Changsheng Hall and the Wandu Sect who guarded the Holy Hall, but the Holy Hall was, after all, the first priority, so we joined the masters of the other branches in its defense."
The Nether King glanced at the sky. "How could these five have cultivated so highly, even a hundred years ago?"
Qinglong shook his head. "Not entirely so. Thinking it over afterward, I realized it was because we had been so badly defeated at Canglan Mountain, with so many masters slain and wounded, that everyone's hearts were in turmoil. When those five came charging wildly, for a time we all thought the whole orthodox host had come, and our hearts failed before we ever fought. Who would have guessed there were only five?"
He paused there, then went on: "Of those five, in truth I had only ever laid eyes on Wan Jiangu, so I did not know the other four. When they charged into the Holy Hall, the five split into five paths and came at us from every direction. We were caught unprepared, and our hearts were anxious and afraid; hearing battle cries on every side, front and back, left and right, our composure broke. Had we but steadied ourselves and fought, once the situation settled we would surely have won—a pity, ah, a pity that among them there was a Wan Jiangu..."
The Nether King frowned. "What of this man?"
Qinglong's eyes half closed; he was silent a moment, then let out a long breath and shook his head. "That man was a genius of heaven, brilliant beyond compare—the like of which I have seen but once in my life. Afterward, when we spoke of it privately, we all agreed that though the other four were of no low cultivation, compared with Wan Jiangu they fell far short. One might say that without this man, those Canglan Sect fellows could never have broken into our wilds, much less fought their way to our Holy Hall."
Watching his expression, one would think him lost in memory, with a faint yearning in it: "At that time, the other four charged in from the sides and rear, while we had gathered our main force at the front gate of the Holy Hall, our hearts wavering between dread and alarm—and just then, Wan Jiangu came straight in alone, sword in hand..."
The Nether King frowned. "He alone?"
Qinglong sighed. "Yes, he alone. I still remember how his white robes were like snow, his sword green as water... ah, yes, that was the Slaying Dragon Sword! A hundred years without seeing it—I nearly failed to recognize it."
The Nether King was startled; following Qinglong's left hand, he saw it pointing at the sword in Lin Jinghong's hand, still fighting on the field—that sword green as autumn water, the Slaying Dragon Sword.
"So the Slaying Dragon Sword was in Wan Jiangu's hand back then?"