Chapter 78 — Six
The Sword Questions the Heavens · Page 6 of 8
They had not gone far when from behind them, upon the Yuheng Hall, came thunderous crashes, and several beams of light like pillars of a mountain shot up into the sky, bursting through the roof of the Yuheng Hall and soaring heavenward, mingled with a few wretched screams—and who it was that had lost their life, none could tell.
The faces of all changed; it went without saying how cruel the fierce battle upon the Yuheng Hall must be at this moment, and they could not help but worry for their masters and fellow disciples. Daoist Daoyan gazed deeply in that direction, his face drawn taut, then suddenly flung out his Daoist robe and strode on.
The young disciples followed behind him, and they saw that this figure they had revered like a god in days past still bore himself straight and tall as ever, yet upon his dark green Daoist robe the patch of blood, soaked through to black, was shocking to behold—even the sword hole left by Daoist Cangyan's treacherous blow was all too clearly visible.
Truly, how could this Daoist Daoyan still hold himself up after suffering wounds so grave?
The party passed through the rear hall. Among the young disciples none belonged to the eldest branch, and so none had ever been here before; they simply followed Daoist Daoyan through halls and courtyards, and gradually the clamor from the Yuheng Hall fell away behind them. Passing through the rear hall of the Yuheng Hall, they headed toward the back mountain of the Jietian Peak.
Daoist Daoyan walked at the head, the others close behind him, watching their surroundings warily. Though most of the Demonic Sect's followers were attacking the front mountain now, there was no telling whether some might not have been led by Daoist Cangyan to the back mountain as well.
Zhang Qingyue walked at the rear, his eyes faintly red, his face expressionless, yet within his heart it was as though towering waves crashed and roared—shocked by the great calamity befalling the Canglan Sect, and torn by the blood feud of those years. In his memory, he had never with his own eyes seen the murderer who had slaughtered the villagers of Liumiao Village that year, yet whenever he recalled the scene of that day, he thought of that fierce and mysterious man in black.
And now it seemed most likely that it was none other than Daoist Cangyan!
Of the two survivors of Liumiao Village, only Zhang Qingyue had seen that man in black crossing blows with Puzhao. Now that it was all but certain, the hatred of many years surged up in his heart, and the black iron staff in his hand—forged from the world's two great instruments of evil, Blood Devourer and Soul Snatcher—was stirred by its master's hatred and murderous intent, and the long-buried malevolence rose up in turn, reacting upon Zhang Qingyue himself.
On any ordinary day, not to speak of a man of Daoist Daoyan's cultivation, even Tian Buhui would have seen at once that something was wrong with Zhang Qingyue; but at this moment who had the mind to spare for him? Yet none knew that this humble disciple of the Canglan Sect stood at a critical juncture of extreme spiritual turmoil, locked in a battle between heaven and man—and that one slip might see him tainted by the deep demonic malevolence of Blood Devourer and Soul Snatcher, lost beyond all redemption!
Sure enough, events proved that the misgivings of Tian Buhui, Shuiyue and the others had not been groundless. Though the back-mountain path of the Jietian Peak was secluded, they had not gone far when several Demonic Sect followers burst out from either side, and Qi Hao and the others at once stepped forward to engage them.
Daoist Daoyan spared them but a glance and walked straight on. This time, in their assault on Qingyun, the Demonic Sect had truly sent forth its finest; even the followers lurking here were of no shallow cultivation, and Qi Hao, Lu Xueqi and the rest could not dispatch them quickly.