Chapter 253 — The Offering
The Sword Questions the Heavens · Page 2 of 5
Ming Li sped away, the Ghost Master's strange cries still carrying to his ears, and doubt and alarm churned in his heart as well. For ten years the Ghost Master had been inscrutable within the Ghost King Sect, yet his cultivation and his breadth of knowledge were such that even Ming Li must regard him with some wariness. He had never expected the man to turn into such a bizarre spectacle today. As he pondered, his form flew with such speed that he was already on the verge of reaching the cavern mouth and leaving this mad blood-pool cavern.
But just then, unexpectedly, a scream came from behind him—a scream that chilled the heart and tore at the soul: "Aah—"
The cry was sharp and piercing, filled with terror, despair, disbelief, and grief; and Ming Li heard it clearly—it was unmistakably the Ghost Master's voice. This sudden turn came abruptly, one thing upon another. Shaken, Ming Li could not help but halt his steps and turn to look—and that look made his whole body jolt, and he drew in a sharp breath of cold air.
The Ghost Master's black figure was still kneeling toward the Dragon-Subduing Cauldron in midair and the mysterious red shadow upon it, just as before; but now his once-raised hands had slowly fallen, dropping limply to the ground. A gigantic deep-crimson tentacle, its edges sharp as blades, had thrust down from the red shadow upon the Cauldron—like an enormous scythe—piercing the Ghost Master from behind and bursting out through his chest. Its remaining force was still so tremendous that it drove deep into the hard ground beneath him, and within a radius of six feet the rock split into a web of cracks.
That mysterious, uncanny red shadow had, with its dreadful scythe-like tentacle, pinned the Ghost Master alive to the ground. Blood gushed from his wound and in an instant dyed the ground beneath him red.
"Urgh—aah..." The Ghost Master gasped in great gulps, his body trembling violently. A moment later the monstrous tentacle, which seemed to know no pity, tore itself up with a boom and withdrew—and the dreadful force of it swept the already shattered Ghost Master whole into the air, tumbling him over.
Blood sprayed in every direction, streaking through the air with a kind of bleak sorrow.
No one could have imagined that the Ghost Master, having undone the bondage of the Heaven-Earth Lock, would become the first offering to that mysterious red-shadowed demon!
Almost by instinct, Ming Li leapt up and caught the Ghost Master in midair. The black veil still covered his face, but it had been dyed dark by the blood he had spat out. Ming Li glanced silently at his chest, then turned his eyes away.
The wound was so vast it had all but cut the Ghost Master in two; so grievous was the injury that there could be no saving him. A man who had stood hale and whole beside him but moments ago had, in the blink of an eye, become this—and for a time Ming Li did not know what to say at all.
Holding the Ghost Master's broken body, Ming Li landed back on the platform near the cavern mouth, far from that dreadful red shadow. In his arms the Ghost Master now drew far more breath out than in. Yet beneath such grievous wounds, suddenly, the Ghost Master began to laugh in a low voice.
The laughter was full of bitterness, steeped in self-mockery and helplessness—and it lasted only a moment before being cut short by still more violent coughing and blood. Ming Li laid him gently upon the ground, then cast a wary glance at the mysterious red shadow in the distance. Wrapped in countless masses of blood-essence, the red shadow was twisting and shifting ceaselessly, but it showed no intent of striking toward the cavern mouth—perhaps because of the distance between them.
Ming Li looked back at the Ghost Master, was silent a moment, and said in a low voice, "Have you anything left to say?"