Chapter 124 — Black Fire

He had not finished when a strange, tremendous crash came from the black clouds in the sky—like thunder, like a beast's roar. In an instant the black clouds seemed to ignite, blazing with light, and within and without the clouds all was searing golden radiance.

Moments later, amid the rumbling deep in the clouds, a huge fireball plummeted from the sky, wrapped in roaring flame—yet at its very core there seemed to burn a strange black fire. Before it reached the ground, the surrounding trees were all scorched and withered. The Miao cried out in terror on every side, but the fireball plunged down with such speed that before they could flee, a shrill scream of air came tearing through, and with a thunderous roar it crashed into the earth.

In the din, countless severed limbs flew out with the burning flames—a sight too horrible to behold, and wailing rose on every side.

Ming Li's expression changed. He had not expected the one in the black clouds to strike without warning. He was about to leap up and go to the Miao's aid when he felt a sudden tug at the back of his robe—Xiaobai had caught hold of him.

Puzzled, he looked at her. Xiaobai glanced into the distance. "Don't be hasty. Look there."

Ming Li followed her gaze. She was looking at the Miao altar halfway up the mountain. On that mountaintop platform, lit by the blazing firelight, a withered, stooped figure stood erect and alone, head raised to the sky. Though the distance was too great to make out the man's features, from that silhouette Ming Li knew at once: it was the mysterious great shaman of the Miao altar.

He checked his movement and gazed far off at that aged figure in the mountains.

In the sky the fiery clouds burned ever brighter, staining the whole night sky red like a vision of the end of days, heaven and earth alike perishing, played out in blazing drama on this southern borderland.

With a thunderous crash and a fierce night wind, a sudden cry went up—and behind the Miao warriors, the roar of slaughter rose loud.

The Miao turned pale, and Tumagu's face changed utterly. Qili Dong was easy to hold and hard to attack, with only a single mountain road leading out, and the Miao had always kept a strong guard there. Now someone had fought their way in without anyone knowing. Could it be...

Was this truly the night the Miao tribe would be wiped from the earth?

Yet the Miao had dominated the southern border for two hundred years. Tumagu, as chief, mastered his alarm and gave a great shout, charging first toward the rear, and in moments the Miao warriors followed after.

The night was like blood. Countless blades flashed cold in an instant, sweeping across the darkness and splashing bright red blood.

Flames blazed, and heaven and earth seemed about to split. That horde of warriors like devils—fierce bear-head tattoos on their chests—came roaring and charging madly out of the darkness. Their eyes were full of frenzy, full of bloodlust. At their head was a man of enormous stature, his bare torso covered in scars, wielding a giant stone axe, slashing and killing in every direction. Wherever he passed, blood flowed across the ground and screams rose on all sides.

The Miao warriors were famed for their ferocity, but tonight the attack had come without warning, and the Dog God's bark at the sky was an omen of great calamity such as comes once in a thousand years—the Miao were shaken and terrified. And the Li had lain in ambush long, then struck suddenly, hardened by two hundred years of bitter savagery in the southern wilds, fighting with extinction at their backs. In a moment the Miao warriors who had ruled the southern border could not hold, and fell back one after another.

Tumagu's eyes seemed to spit fire. He had now made out the enemy's look, and bellowed, "The Li!"

The Li chief brought his axe down and cut down another Miao warrior, then looked over with a savage grin. "Miao dogs! Two hundred years of debt—today you pay it all!"

As his words fell, as if in answer, countless Li warriors howled in unison like beasts baying at the moon, and with endless frenzy threw themselves into the attack. The Miao could hold no longer, and seemed on the verge of collapse.

At that desperate moment, a low and mysterious sound suddenly rose in the valley—like a whisper, like something from the underworld—echoing and entwining through every inch of Qili Dong.

The Miao warriors' faces lit with joy at once, their spirits greatly roused; among the Li, by contrast, from the chief down, alarm suddenly showed on every face.

The great shaman whose fame overawed the southern border had appeared at last, in the Miao's most desperate hour.

A red radiance flickered amid the flames that filled the sky, then swiftly grew, spreading from the great shaman on the mountain platform out over all Qili Dong. Wherever it passed, the burning flames went out one after another.

Moments later the red light had reached the battlefield where Miao and Li struggled. Coming from behind, it left the Miao unharmed beneath its glow, but at the light's edge a sturdy Li warrior touched that mysterious red radiance and abruptly gave a miserable scream, fell to the ground convulsing, and after a moment shook all over and died, blood streaming from his seven openings.

The Li were stricken with terror and fell back one after another. These warriors were used to killing; against any strong foe or monstrous beast, told to charge, they would not so much as blink. But this kind of mysterious sorcery had always been the power most feared by the tribes of the southern border, and for a time every face showed dread.

Even the Li chief could not hide his alarm. The name of the Miao's great shaman was little short of a demon's to the other four tribes of the southern border, and at this moment he felt it to the depths.

Yet he did not order a retreat. Instead he raised his head and looked at the sky.

That expanse of flame burning in the night sky blazed fierce and vast!

Laughter rang out, loud and booming, full of contempt and hostility.

The clouds across the sky blazed bright in an instant; the burning flames seemed suddenly transparent and white-hot, taking the form of a monstrous beast in midair. Wind fed the fire, the fire surged higher, wind and cloud shifted without cease like a roaring, surging sea.

At the forefront of the clouds a figure appeared—like a deity, flames covering his whole body—looking down from midair like a proud god.

He waved his arms in midair, performing a series of strange motions, and a moment later, as if some mysterious power gave a howl behind him, flames leapt up across the sky and the clouds churned madly. A tremendous explosion followed, and in an instant countless fireballs fell from the sky, trailing roaring flame, plunging down upon the world of men.

Everyone on the ground, Ming Li and Xiaobai included, changed color. A single fireball had already struck with such force; once these countless fireballs fell, Qili Dong would surely turn to a sea of fire in moments, past all saving.

Any ordinary man could see it, and the great shaman surely knew it too. The red light in the valley blazed up almost at the same instant. From afar his face still could not be made out, but that small, thin figure, beneath the sky full of terrifying flame, seemed utterly ancient.

Now all could see clearly: that red radiance came from the great shaman standing on the mountain platform—more precisely, from a wooden staff in his hand. The staff was pitch black, and standing upright it was taller than the great shaman himself. At its tip was set a strange stone, neither metal nor jade, which under the great shaman's mysterious power gave off an ever stronger red light.

The Li suddenly stirred; countless warriors' eyes went red in an instant, and the Li chief, that giant, gave a great roar, as if bearing two hundred years of deep, unending hatred.

"Bone Jade!"