Chapter 148 — Civil Strife
劍問蒼天 · Page 6 of 7
Daoist Cang Yan's face changed slightly. His figure flickered; he dodged the claw Chuwu smashed down, rode his sword swiftly away from the beasts, and flew toward the north of the town. Chuwu roared loudly, its eyes seeming to shoot fire, and gave chase without letting up.
Daoist Cang Yan had meant to fly swiftly to the nameless hill and join the others in destroying this beast demon. But he had flown less than half the distance when he felt a great rush of wind at his back and the hot stench of blood almost at the nape of his neck. Startled, he glanced back in haste and was shocked: this Chuwu was incredibly fast. Even wounded, its four feet flew like wind and lightning, and it had actually caught up with Daoist Cang Yan riding his sword.
Chuwu, close behind him, did not hesitate. With a great roar it opened its maw and bit down, in a manner that made plain nothing less than tearing Daoist Cang Yan in two would slake its hatred. But Daoist Cang Yan had cultivated for many years and did not panic at the critical moment. His body plunged sharply downward, narrowly—by a hair's breadth—escaping the fate of being buried in a tiger's jaws. Even so, he broke out in a cold sweat.
After that, Daoist Cang Yan dared not be careless again. He drove his immortal sword up and down, dodging left and right, so that Chuwu could not run in a straight line and bring its incredible speed to bear. Thus he barely reached the maple grove on the small hill, and by now Chuwu had been drawn some distance away from the countless beasts.
Seeing Daoist Cang Yan's figure vanish with a whoosh into the red maple grove, Chuwu grew even more furious and charged straight in. But at the very moment its foot touched the open ground before the grove, Mr. Ghost's black figure suddenly appeared. He chanted a spell in a low voice, and after a moment his black robes floated up, and a strange spiritual power slowly emanated from his body.
Chuwu abruptly checked its headlong rush, though its great momentum carried it sliding forward several zhang and knocking down a dozen or so maples. But Chuwu no longer cared about the trees beneath it, nor even about the vanished Daoist Cang Yan. Its eyes were fixed only on the black figure floating beside it and the strange spiritual power radiating from him.
And this time Chuwu did not charge forward again. It flung its great tiger head, and with a loud roar suddenly opened its mouth wide. From its maw drifted three streams of black smoke, which swiftly congealed in midair into three hideous skeletons wielding great sabers, which lunged at Mr. Ghost, claws bared and fangs bared.
Mr. Ghost's body trembled slightly. This beast demon was not only fierce and swift but could also work the strange sorcery of the southern border—truly not to be underestimated.
Yet Mr. Ghost did not stop his casting to dodge the sorcerous skeletons Chuwu had summoned. Sure enough, just as the three skeletons were about to reach him, figures flashed, and from either side flew Yousi and Mingli, barring Mr. Ghost's way. Yousi twined her hands, gripping a strange mudra, palms facing opposite ways—utterly different from the mudras and true formulas of the Central Plains' Buddhist schools. In a moment a beam of silver light appeared in her palms and swiftly expanded to meet one skeleton. The skeleton, as though scorched, convulsed violently, and as it tried to charge on, its whole frame suddenly fell apart—broken by Yousi's "Vermilion Bird Seal."
At the other end, Mingli, his face impassive, faced the two ferocious skeletons charging at him. His right hand turned over, and the Soul-Devouring Demon Staff appeared in his grasp. But this time he did not, as usual, thrust forth the Blood-Devouring Bead as its head; instead, strangely, he reversed the black staff—like a rod of dark iron—and charged out with the blue-black shaft forward.