Chapter 15 — Divine Power
劍問蒼天 · Page 2 of 6
"Father!" Tian Lingsu cried out first, rushing forward to help Zhang Qingyue up. Lin Jinghong charged over almost in the same breath. At the sight of the blood on Zhang Qingyue's chest, his fury surged—had he himself been wounded, he might not have been so enraged, but to see Zhang Qingyue brought to such a pass for pleading on his behalf, Lin Jinghong cast all caution aside. He whirled on Tian Buhui and shouted, "You fat dwarf, what do you think you're doing?"
As he spoke, the Zhanlong Sword seemed to sense its master's turmoil, and its azure light blazed forth once more.
Tian Buhui's brows shot up—the words "fat dwarf" had likely sent smoke pouring from his seven orifices. He flicked his sleeve, and with a "swoosh" vanished from everyone's sight.
Qi Hao cried out sharply, "Junior Brother, look out!"
Lin Jinghong had long been on his guard. Seeing Tian Buhui's figure flit past like a ghost, he at once raised the Zhanlong Sword before him, wrapping himself in the azure radiance of its sword qi.
But his vision blurred—Tian Buhui's squat, round body simply ignored the piercing azure light as though it did not exist, and abruptly appeared before him. All the azure sword qi halted a full three feet from his body and could advance not a hairsbreadth further. Lin Jinghong's heart lurched. Tian Buhui's eyes glared wide, his face almost pressed to his own. Panic seized him, and he staggered back, step after step—yet even so the Zhanlong Sword did not falter, hanging crosswise in the air before him to guard its master.
Tian Buhui gave a cold laugh. His right hand shot out, thrusting bare into the sword qi. A layer of crimson brilliance rose upon his palm, pressing against the azure light—and in the blink of an eye he had seized the Zhanlong Sword in his grasp.
Qi Hao at once rushed into the fray, crying loudly, "Martial Uncle Tian, show mercy!"
Tian Buhui did not pursue. He let Qi Hao shield Lin Jinghong behind him, and merely gazed at the Zhanlong Sword in his hand.
By now nearly all the azure sword qi had dispersed, but the Zhanlong Sword seemed to possess a spirit of its own. In Tian Buhui's plump hand its blade-light flickered and it struggled without cease, dyeing half his body green—yet it could not break free.
Tian Buhui raised his eyes and looked ahead. "The Zhanlong Sword may be a divine weapon of the nine heavens," he said coldly, "but that does not make it invincible under heaven!" As the words fell, his five fingers suddenly tightened. The Zhanlong Sword, as though struck a heavy blow, went obediently still. A moment later the whole blade suddenly blazed anew with azure sword qi, dazzling and radiant—how many times brighter than it had been in Lin Jinghong's hand, one could not say. Qi Hao cried out in alarm: "Martial Uncle Tian..." Tian Buhui's face was cold as frost. He said no more. His right hand gripped the Zhanlong Sword and, from high to low, he slashed savagely through the air toward Qi Hao and Lin Jinghong. A shrill rending of the air arose, and in an instant a piercing shriek—green brilliance surged monstrously like a mountain, forming a pillar of green qi two men tall, which shot forth like a furious wave piercing the sky.
Qi Hao gritted his teeth and raised his sword incantation with both hands. With a "zheng!" a white immortal sword flew swiftly forth—none other than his famed "Cold Ice."
Quick as a blink, Tian Buhui's green sword qi came rending through the air. Qi Hao, shielding Lin Jinghong, retreated several steps, his right hand drawing sword incantations without pause. The Cold Ice Sword flashed white, its cold air surging, and in an instant it had formed seven walls of ice before the two of them.