Chapter 172 — Bloodthirst
The Sword Questions the Heavens · Page 6 of 6
In the field, Ming Li came down to earth. There was nothing else in his eyes now—only the ancient sword Shixian. His whole body was drenched in blood, half of him swiftly dyed red, yet he seemed not to notice. A strange, gnashing agony showed on his face as he stared straight at Shixian.
The ancient, plain sword Shixian lay quietly stuck in the ground before him. Its blade—neither stone nor jade—could not even mirror his face. Only that faint, fine crack showed, as though new.
Ming Li threw back his head and laughed, wild and crazed. Ten years of days flashed past him one by one in an instant. Without another word he thrust out his left hand and seized the hilt; his right hand summoned Shihun back and gripped it tight, and with savage fury he brought it down upon the blade of Shixian—upon that fine crack.
Behind him Lin Jinghong roared at the top of his voice and came chasing with all his might, but it was already too late. Lu Xueling had only just landed, her mind still in chaos; and far off, the clamor of that crowd suddenly swelled, as though they had discovered something, and all of them came rushing toward the Phantom Moon Cave.
Only—in that brief space of time, what could anyone have done?
Just as no one can ever, in the end, hold back even a moment of time!
Shihun, glinting with dark cyan-black light, came whistling down through the air. Its master's blood now poured in streams, running down along his left hand, drip by drip onto Shixian, streaking across the sword's somewhat coarse-looking blade, slowly vanishing—yet not a drop fell to the ground.
Faintly, in that instant, something stirred in Ming Li's heart, as though some strange and familiar scene had touched him, passing through his mind like lightning.
A moment later, he understood with a shock:
It was blood!
In that instant, from the corner of his eye, he saw his own blood, as it flowed onto the blade of the ancient sword Shixian—and above all as it flowed to that crack—slowly disappear, swiftly and silently melting into the ancient sword.
Shixian! Shixian! Shixian!
Shixian, it turned out, was like the Blood-Drinking Bead—it too could devour the essence blood of living things!
He was stunned and could not contain himself; but the Shihun in his hand, already slammed downward, had long outrun the speed of his thoughts, and struck hard upon the ancient sword Shixian!