Chapter 77 — Five
The Sword Questions the Heavens · Page 3 of 6
In but a moment Daoist Daoyan felt his head swim and his breath choke; yet his cultivation was of what towering height—higher even than the monk Puzhao in his day—and he at once forced his mind to steadiness. Fingers of his left hand joined like a blade, he struck several rapid points upon his right hand, which in those few moments had grown all but numb, tracing talismans in the air, and at once checked the upward advance of that dark qi.
Now Daoist Cangyan rushed to his side and steadied him firmly; catching sight of Daoyan's wound, he turned and bellowed at Zhang Qingyue, "Zhang Qingyue, you wretched spawn—you dared to secretly harm the sect leader!"
The assembly was aghast. Zhang Qingyue cried out in shock, "No—it wasn't me—"
Daoist Daoyan, thronged about by the crowd, had by now regained some color; but so fierce was the Seven-Tailed Centipede's venom that even upon his face a faint dark qi could be seen, thin but undispersed. Yet for all that his senses remained clear, and drawing a deep breath he said, "Seize this wretched spawn at once and interrogate him thoroughly."
Daoist Cangyan turned. "Rest easy, senior brother—I am here."
Daoist Daoyan gasped for breath, but his heart was half eased; he nodded, and turning to look at him was about to say, "Then—"
His voice suddenly broke off. The face of Daoist Cangyan before his eyes had in an instant changed from an anxious countenance to one of utter savagery. And almost in that same instant, something went cold at Daoyan's belly, and a sharp agony stabbed through him; his body convulsed, and the whole essence of his cultivation—which he had shifted to his right hand to hold the poison in check—suddenly scattered.
"Ah!"
With a great roar, Daoist Daoyan swept his left hand down in a reverse slash; Daoist Cangyan's left hand rose at once to meet it. The two collided, and Cangyan's body was violently shaken and sent flying backward, landing at the gate of the Jade Balance Hall. After a moment a streak of blood slowly trickled from the corner of his mouth—yet his expression was a cold sneer.
In his right hand he gripped a short sword, translucent as water—at a glance, plainly no common thing. And now the blade was scored with blood, fresh crimson blood that slowly dripped, drop by drop, from the edge onto the gray bricks of the great hall.
The crowd that had been in such turmoil a moment before suddenly fell still—still as death.
The front of Daoist Daoyan's dark green robes had in an instant turned a deeper shade, and his whole face had gone deathly pale; yet the astonishment upon his features far outstripped the pain of his body.
"You—what have you done?" he rasped at Daoist Cangyan, who stood at the hall's entrance, voicing the question in every heart. Even Qi Hao and Lin Jinghong of the Longfeng Peak could scarcely believe their eyes, every mouth agape, staring at the man who had once been among the most powerful on all Canglan Mountain.
"I?" Daoist Cangyan seemed suddenly to have become another man entirely, and burst into wild laughter. "I was striking you down in secret! Could you not see it?" With that he beckoned, and the Seven-Tailed Centipede in midair flew to him at once, vanishing in a flash into his sleeve.
Qi Hao could hold back no longer, and cried out, his voice full of bewilderment and horror, "Master—are you, are you mad?"
Daoist Cangyan glanced at him, then his gaze fell upon Lin Jinghong, who stood beside Qi Hao with much the same expression, and upon the other Longfeng Peak disciples, and indeed upon the disciples of every other branch of the Canglan Sect—all gazing at him as at a madman, in utter disbelief.
"Hahaha—mad? Yes! I have long been mad!" Daoist Cangyan laughed wildly at the heavens, a touch of frenzy in his manner. "A hundred years ago, here in this very Jade Balance Hall, when I saw what became of Senior Brother Wan Jiangu—I was already mad!"