Chapter 148 — Internal Strife

In the dust there came a sudden rumbling boom, and the shriek broke off. Light flickered in midair, and there, leaping out from the dust clouds, was a beast demon of enormous bulk shaped like a fierce tiger. Seen from afar, the creature resembled a tiger—even on its forehead there seemed faintly to be the character for "king"—but its body was immeasurably larger than an ordinary tiger's, with sharp teeth and talons, and a pelt of five brilliant colors. Strangest of all was its tail, extraordinarily long, seeming far longer than its body. Compared with it, the ferocious monsters around it were like kittens and puppies.

Mingli, hidden outside the town, frowned and muttered in a low voice: "Chuwu! (Note 1)"

The town encircled by the beasts was in itself no more than a small, modest settlement. When this beast demon, standing fully five or six zhang tall, planted itself before the town, its tiger head nearly reached above the walls. A thick stench of blood rode the wind, and the people atop the wall either froze in terror or, their wits fled, ran for their lives.

Chuwu gave a low growl, a savage light flickering in its eyes, then suddenly let out a shriek and raised its thick foreleg to smash straight down on the town gate. Its sharp tiger claws pierced the thick wooden gate with ease; before the common folk desperately bracing it from behind could understand what was happening, several had already been skewered by the enormous claws, and the rest fled in wild terror in all directions.

Chuwu roared loudly, its claws smashing down again and again. After several great booms—"hong, hong, hong"—the ruined gate collapsed, and in an instant the whole town was filled with weeping. Outside the walls, excited roars rose in answer, and countless fierce beasts swarmed in; in the blink of an eye, it was a storm of blood and flesh.

Chuwu had opened the gate for the other monsters, yet did not itself enter to slaughter. It seemed to disdain such work now; and at this moment it seemed to have sensed something—its tiger head turned, its huge body slowly twisting around, its nose sniffing ceaselessly at the air as though trying to confirm something.

Just as Chuwu was hesitating and searching, a great crash came suddenly from the town wall before it. A section of the wall burst open, and Daoist Cangyan came hurtling out through the breach, appearing directly before Chuwu, a yellow sword-gleam in his hand striking Chuwu's chest with the speed of a thunderclap.

Chuwu let out an earth-shaking roar, and its whole enormous tiger body flew backward. But Daoist Cangyan was, after all, a figure of long-established fame, a disciple of Qingyun, the foremost sect in the world today; his cultivation was no ordinary thing. Though Chuwu flew backward, a sound like tearing silk hissed out, and a great wound over four chi long was opened across its chest.

Had it been an ordinary monster, such a wound would have meant instant death. But Chuwu was plainly no ordinary monster; as one of the thirteen beast demons beneath the Beast Demon's command, its vitality and demonic arts far surpassed those of common creatures. Though blood poured from its chest like a spring, Chuwu did not even glance at it; with an enraged roar it pounced again, and its movement and bearing were scarcely slower than before the wound.

Daoist Cangyan's expression shifted slightly. With a flicker of his form he dodged the claw Chuwu brought down, then rode his sword swiftly away from the beast herd, flying north of the town. Chuwu roared loudly, its eyes seeming to spit fire, and gave chase without letting up.

Daoist Cangyan had meant to fly swiftly to that nameless hill and join the others in destroying the beast demon, but he had not gone even half the distance when he felt a great rush of wind behind him, the hot stench of blood almost at the back of his head. Startled, he glanced back in haste and was shocked: this Chuwu was unbelievably fast. Even wounded, its four legs flew like the wind, like a gale or lightning, and it had actually caught up with Daoist Cangyan on his sword.

Chuwu, close behind him, did not hesitate; with a great roar it opened its jaws wide and bit down, in a manner that made plain it would not be satisfied until it had bitten Daoist Cangyan in two. But Daoist Cangyan had cultivated for many years and did not panic at the critical moment. His body suddenly dropped, and by a hair's breadth he narrowly escaped the fate of becoming a tiger's meal. Even so, he broke out in a cold sweat.

Thereafter Daoist Cangyan dared not be careless again. He rode his immortal sword up and down, dodging left and right, denying Chuwu the straight-line run that let it unleash its incredible speed; only thus did he narrowly reach the maple grove before the little hill. By then Chuwu had been drawn some distance away from the countless herd of monsters.

As Daoist Cangyan's form vanished with a whoosh into the red expanse of the maple grove, Chuwu grew even more enraged and charged straight in after him. But at the very moment its foot touched the open ground before the grove, Mr. Ghost's black figure suddenly appeared. He chanted a spell in a low voice; after a moment his black robes rose billowing, and a strange spiritual power slowly emanated from his body.

Chuwu abruptly checked its charging steps; the momentum of its great bulk still carried it sliding forward several zhang, knocking down more than a dozen maples. But Chuwu suddenly cared nothing for the grove beneath it, nor even for the vanished Daoist Cangyan; its eyes were fixed only on the black figure floating beside it and the strange spiritual power emanating from him.

And this time Chuwu did not charge forward again either. With a shake of its great tiger head, it gave a loud roar and suddenly opened its mouth wide; from its jaws drifted three streams of black smoke, which swiftly congealed in midair into three hideous skeletons wielding great sabers. Clawing and fanging, they pounced at Mr. Ghost.

Mr. Ghost's body gave a slight shudder. This beast demon was not only fierce and swift, but could even wield the uncanny shamanic arts of the southern borderlands; it truly could not be underestimated.

Yet Mr. Ghost did not halt his casting to dodge the shamanic skeletons Chuwu had summoned. Sure enough, just as the three skeletons were nearly upon him, shadows flickered and Yousi and Mingli flew out from either side to stand before Mr. Ghost. Yousi crossed her hands and formed a strange mudra, one palm facing in and one out, utterly unlike the true mudras of the Central Plains' Buddhist schools. In a moment a beam of silver light appeared in her palms and swiftly expanded to meet a skeleton. The skeleton, as though seared, gave a violent shudder; as it made to charge again, its whole frame suddenly scattered apart—broken by Yousi's "Vermilion Bird Seal."

At the other end, Mingli's face was blank as he faced the two savage skeletons charging straight at him. His right hand turned over, and the Soul-Devouring Demon Staff appeared in his grip. But this time he did not, as usual, thrust forth the Blood-Devouring Pearl at its head; instead, strangely, he reversed the black staff—like a bar of dark iron—and charged out with its blue-black shaft foremost.

The two skeletons slashed down with their sabers at the same moment, but before they came within three chi of the black staff, under the urging of Mingli's strange true arts a red light flashed suddenly along its length. The shaft lit up at once, black qi surging; it was more ghostly than the two skeletons themselves. In an instant the two sides collided, and Mingli's black staff pierced the demonic bodies of the two skeletons as though cutting tofu. The black qi churned; a moment later the two skeletons gaped wide but could make no sound, and thus silently dissolved away. The last remnant of black qi was drawn into the staff as well.