Chapter 173 — The Flight
The Sword Questions the Heavens · Page 4 of 6
The red radiance on the Slaying Immortals sword, from its blazing peak, now seemed helpless against the devouring demonic force of the Blood-Devouring Bead, and slowly dimmed, while the Soul-Devouring Demonic Rod shone brighter and brighter. The Canglan Gate folk around were no blind men; by now most could see something was amiss—plainly this demon Ming Li had secretly worked some sorcery or other, and the Slaying Immortals sword seemed scarcely able to withstand it.
After a stir and clamor, suddenly several voices shouted curses from the crowd, and at the same time several streaks of magic-treasure light flew at Ming Li. Ming Li was wholly bent on wrestling with the Slaying Immortals sword and had no thought for what went on around him; he gave no response at all, and moments later those several magic treasures struck him square upon the back.
Ming Li's body convulsed; his blood and qi surged; his throat went sweet and he spat out another mouthful of blood, straight onto the Slaying Immortals sword. The sword had already fallen silent, but with this sudden spurt of blood it flashed red, and even seemed to swell in strength once more. Ming Li felt it in his own body; heedless of the grave wound at his back, he sensed within himself the sword's uncanny devouring force suddenly waxing again.
Lightning and thunder flashed through his mind; he knew this was truly the thread between life and death—if the Slaying Immortals regained the upper hand, he feared he would have no chance left, and would end withered and drained. At that thought he gave a wild roar, reckless of all else, and with all the strength of his body and the cultivation of a lifetime, using the divine power of the three true dharmas fused in one that he had just grasped, struck with all his might.
The onlookers saw no movement from Ming Li; they saw only that he had taken the blows of several magic treasures full on, spat blood, and the red light on the Slaying Immortals sword wavered—and at the very moment it seemed about to blaze up, between Ming Li and the Slaying Immortals there burst a great resounding roar, mingled with several sounds of bones cracking and snapping, and Ming Li's whole body was driven out by some vast, nameless force, like an arrow loosed from the string, sailing over the heads of the crowd and falling far off into the distant woods.
The Canglan Gate folk were stunned beyond measure, and all stood rooted where they were; after a good while someone suddenly came to his senses and shouted, "After him! We must not let that demon escape!"
That word woke them all, and at once countless people went in pursuit toward where Ming Li had fallen. All present had seen plain enough that Ming Li had been gravely wounded in his struggle with the Slaying Immortals sword; now was the perfect time to hunt the man down.
As the people around leapt into the air and sped off in pursuit, only the folk of Great Zhu Peak and Little Zhu Peak stood woodenly where they were. Song Dayi and the others could neither bring themselves not to chase nor bear to; while over by Wen Pei's side came a cry of alarm—Lu Xueling had fainted.
Amid the frantic efforts of the Little Zhu Peak women to revive Lu Xueling, suddenly, through the utmost confusion of clamor, a very faint sound came forth.
Faint though it was, somehow it was keen as a fine needle, piercing into the heart of every Canglan Gate disciple present. It was like the sound of something quietly breaking—coming from the Slaying Immortals sword beside them.
The blood drained from every face, as though that soft sound were the echo of the world's last day. Slowly they turned their heads, as though the motion cost them all their strength.
Beneath the gaze of all, that legendary Slaying Immortals sword, standing quietly thrust point-down into the flagstones, from the already widened seam upon its plain ancient blade, once again gave out a thin, tiny sound of shattering.