Chapter 79 — Seven
劍問蒼天 · Page 2 of 6
Lin Jinghong clenched his teeth; the Slaying Dragon Sword rippled with emerald waves as he held it across his body. The treasures the three black-robed men wielded were these: one a yellow flying sword, one a long halberd of massive weight, and the last the strangest and most horrifying of all—a white bone sword fashioned from several human bones, steeped in a grim, dark air.
Lin Jinghong fought alone against three, battling bitterly through clenched teeth. The Slaying Dragon Sword's green light crisscrossed as he held his ground, and he did not yield so much as a step—yet gradually he was still forced onto the defensive.
Lin Jinghong had entered the Canglan Sect as a youth, and his natural gifts were exceptional. Daoist Cangyan thought highly of him, not only instructing him with painstaking care but even passing down to him the Slaying Dragon Sword, a treasure of no small renown—whether because in this youth he glimpsed the shadow of one he had once revered, none could say.
And Lin Jinghong had indeed not failed Daoist Cangyan's pains. In but a few short years, by his own outstanding talent and by that conviction buried deep in his heart—to avenge his parents and kin—his cultivation advanced by leaps and bounds, and within a few years he had become the foremost among the younger generation of disciples.
Yet however diligently he applied himself, cultivation was in the end bound by time and could not be forced too swiftly. Now, facing three black-robed demon cultists, the halberd before him came smashing down without cease while the flying sword sought openings to strike by stealth; and worse still was that white bone sword, cold and grim, which under its wielder's command flickered in and out of sight. Every time he parried it, the dark air swept over him, and he could not help but draw a sharp breath and shudder from head to foot.
Thus he fought bitterly for dozens of exchanges. For all Lin Jinghong's wholehearted defense, the emerald gleam of the Slaying Dragon Sword was gradually pressed down by the three black-robed men, and watching his defeat become plain, at last he could hold no longer and fell back a step.
Behind him, the false Shangguan Lue gave a cold laugh.
Once he retreated, he could not stop his feet. The three black-robed men, their spirits soaring, unleashed their treasures all at once. Sweat poured down Lin Jinghong in streams as he fell back again and again, unable to plant his feet.
Suddenly that mysterious white bone sword vanished outright. Lin Jinghong was just parrying the halberd smashing down at his head and sweeping aside with another stroke the flying sword raiding from the side, when pain lanced through his foot and he could stand no longer. The white bone sword had at some point burrowed into the earth and crept up unseen, and now opened a great gash across his right leg, blood streaming down.
Lin Jinghong roared, and the Slaying Dragon Sword came cleaving down through the air. This immortal weapon struck the white bone sword with a faint crackling sound; the bone sword's master was sent tumbling away at once, and fine cracks could be seen bursting across the blade.
The demon cultist who wielded the white bone sword felt a pang of anguish and hastily drew it back to examine. But by then the other two's treasures had arrived, whistling with bitter wind. Lin Jinghong, in a place of death, spent his last strength to drive the Slaying Dragon Sword up across his head.
With a great crash, strange lights flashed wildly and sparks flew in all directions. From whence that power burst forth, none could tell; the Slaying Dragon Sword blocked both treasures outright—but Lin Jinghong's vision went black as well. In that instant, swift as lightning, his focus slipped, and he suddenly saw the false Shangguan Lue, who had stood far off but a moment before, appear right before him, grinning savagely.