Chapter 173 — The Flight
The Sword Questions the Heavens · Page 3 of 6
A surge of warm qi roared up, bursting from the pit of his heart—pure yang breath, spreading straight into his meridians. His whole body shuddered, his mind cleared for a moment, and with a great shout he gathered the cultivation of a lifetime and drove his strength outward. Lightning and thunder flashed through his mind; the three scrolls of the Heavenly Book passed before him in an instant; upon his face the three qi of blue, gold, and red rose together. Though not very bright, they were life renewed.
The Great Brahma Prajna spanned his heart-meridian, the true dharma of the Buddhist gate holding fast; even the Slaying Immortals sword paused a moment. Seizing that instant's respite, with the Supreme Ultimate Mystic Purity Dao as his path, Ming Li's right arm in an instant swelled to twice its thickness; a dark red radiance raced through it, flowing from the arm into the Soul-Devouring Demonic Rod—but just as he meant to strike back and flee, the devouring demonic force of the Slaying Immortals sword broke through the Great Brahma Prajna once more. In an instant Ming Li's whole body went numb, unable to move at all, and that thread of clarity in his mind dimmed once again.
To onlookers now, Ming Li's face was withered and shriveled, scarce different from a dead man's. Song Dayi and others who had once had some acquaintance with Zhang Qingyue all turned their heads away, unable to bear the sight.
Just then, when the outcome seemed settled, the Soul-Devouring Demonic Rod in Ming Li's hand suddenly lit up, its dark blue radiance slowly billowing, as though waking slowly from deep slumber. At its tip the Blood-Devouring Bead, thread upon thread of uncanny red blood-lines, shone again; and deep within the bead, as never before, beneath the dark blue radiance and the blood-lines, golden Buddhist true words arose.
The true dharmas of the three gates—Buddha, Dao, and demon—at this very moment, in Ming Li's death-struggle blow, were truly fused into one.
The Blood-Devouring Bead grew brighter and brighter, its strange yet gorgeous light flickering without cease; then the whole Soul-Devouring Demonic Rod lit up, as though crying out something. Moments later, from the junction of the Soul-Devouring Rod and the Slaying Immortals sword, another muffled report rang out.
Only then did people notice anew that besides Ming Li's left hand, the Soul-Devouring Rod in his right hand had likewise been stuck fast to the Slaying Immortals all along, and had never fallen away.
The strange light on the Blood-Devouring Bead grew brighter and brighter, the three-colored uncanny radiance wheeling; a low sound, like the murmur of ancient demons in ages long past, slowly issued forth:
"Woo... woo... woo..."
A thread of red qi, crystalline and translucent, was first wrenched forcibly out from that seam on the Slaying Immortals blade, drawn into the Soul-Devouring Demonic Rod, tumbling within the Blood-Devouring Bead as though still resisting; but soon it could be seen subdued by the strange breath within the Bead, slowly transformed to a pale red—a small part assimilated by the Soul-Devouring Rod, but the greater part passed back through the Rod into Ming Li's body.
Once this strange change began it did not stop; red qi was ceaselessly drawn from the Slaying Immortals sword, and as more and more was drawn, the strengthened Soul-Devouring Rod shone ever brighter, while Ming Li, replenished, gradually regained his color; the skin of his face slowly returned from withered to its former state, and more strangely still took on a faint, warm, moist luster.