Chapter 77 — Five
The Sword Questions the Heavens · Page 6 of 6
In an instant his presence overshadowed every soul there; his dark green robes billowed though no wind blew, and one could dimly see his hands clenched deep into fists, his nails sunk into his flesh.
He looked straight ahead, his body erect, facing Daoist Cangyan—and as though facing that formless white figure—and laughed aloud: "Good, good, good! I never thought that old case of a hundred years ago should weigh so on your heart. Then come and try—see whether I, your senior brother, am fit to hold this seat or not!"
He glanced sidelong at Cangsong, then suddenly opened his clenched hands wide; from the wound on his right hand black blood gushed and spurted, and the dark qi on his face slowly thinned. Yet his face only grew paler, though his voice turned shrill, edged with contempt: "And you think you are fit?"
Daoist Cangyan suddenly burst out laughing. "Yes—you are formidable. In those years, beneath the Canglan Sect, it was ever Senior Brother Wan and you who were the twin paragons; I was no match for you. But there is one who will deal with you."
Daoist Daoyan's face turned grave, and he said coldly, "Who?"
In the great hall every breath was held; the Canglan Sect disciples looked at one another, while the men of the Fanyin Temple and the Fenxia Valley who stood by watching this internal strife wore awkward expressions.
Daoist Cangyan's laughter would not cease; and it was at this moment that from far beyond the Jade Balance Hall a deep, resonant voice came: "Old friend Daoyan—a hundred years since we met, and I see your bearing is as of old. Joy and congratulations to you!"
The voice rolled in like thunder; in but a moment, beyond Jietian Peak the shouts of battle suddenly rose on every side, the whole mountainside thrown into chaos, and amid the confusion someone far off seemed to be crying, "The demon cult fiends are storming the mountain!"
"What?"
Every Qinglan disciple went pale. Perfected One Daoyan drew a sharp breath, pointed at Daoist Cangyan, and said, all but unable to believe it: "You—you dared betray our sect and collude with the demon cult!"
Daoist Cangyan laughed wildly. "That's right, I colluded with the demon cult—so what of it! To my mind, Qinglan is a nest of filth and rot, worse than the demon cult itself! To avenge Senior Brother Wan, I would not care if I walked into hell itself, let alone collude with the demon cult!"
Su Wan's face was ashen. "Mad," she murmured. "Mad. He's truly gone mad!"
Tian Buhui heard it all, his expression grim. He knew that in recent years Daoist Cangyan had wielded enormous power within Qinglan, that even the routine defenses had been his sole responsibility. And today the demon cult had come in full force, and they had not even been noticed until they were nearly at the Yuheng Hall—the situation could hardly be worse.
In a flash he caught sight of his youngest disciple, Zhang Qingyue, standing amid the chaos, Black Iron Staff in hand. Seizing a moment when no one was looking, he pulled the boy behind him—but in the next instant he realized that something was wrong with his young disciple as well.
Zhang Qingyue's eyes were faintly red, fixed dead upon Daoist Cangyan's figure, and his lips seemed to be moving, murmuring something over and over: "It's him, it's him, it must be him..."