Chapter 133 — Resurrection
The Sword Questions the Heavens · Page 5 of 5
Amid that cry of despair, a strange shriek rose from within the Ancient Cave of Demon Subjugation, coming from far to near, faster and faster, louder and louder, until at last it was deafening. Jin Pingyue felt her mind fill with a roaring as though it would split apart; she could not keep the color from her face, and hastily fled far away.
And the malevolent spirit whirled about, wedging his enormous body into the mouth of the Ancient Cave of Demon Subjugation. He raised his shield, leveled his great sword, eyes blazing and brows bristling—not a trace of fear in him, standing there towering and proud.
The shrieking grew louder and louder, and in an instant had rushed to the cave's mouth.
A tremendous thunderclap burst across the heavens; sky and earth howled, as though all the ranges and lands of the Ten Thousand Desolate Mountains shook together.
In the wind and rain, the malevolent spirit looked like a small boat, tossing and helpless.
That deep, deep darkness, like a monstrous beast with bared fangs and claws, came pouncing at him from within the cave.
The malevolent spirit roared in fury and charged to meet it.
His great sword, mirroring the lightning that streaked across the sky, chopped into the darkness. In an instant the black vapor was cleft in two—yet at once it surged in from either side and, with incomparable speed, swallowed his body whole.
The malevolent spirit cried out, and far off Jin Pingyue still heard that voice: "Niangniang..."
The next moment, the malevolent spirit was gone. The black vapor, mountain-like, gathered desperately at the mouth of the Ancient Cave of Demon Subjugation, reaching toward the sky, toward the earth.
A streak of red light suddenly flashed within the darkness.
A figure—a man wrapped in silk of dazzling brilliance—descended slowly from the black vapor with his back to Jin Pingyue, and came to stand before the stone woman.
Behind him, within the black vapor, shrill shrieks rang out without cease, shadows swayed, as though countless demons were howling in ecstasy.
Only his back looked somehow strange.
Standing before the statue, he stood silently in the wind and rain.
Slowly, he reached out his hand and gently stroked the cold stone.
A low, low voice echoed quietly in the wind and rain, passing through ages upon ages of years, through countless storms and snows and frosts.
"Linglong..."