Chapter 30 — Strange Arts
劍問蒼天 · Page 6 of 8
For all that, Zhang Qingyue's heart held a bitterness he could not voice. Tianxuan's power far exceeded anything he had imagined; with every collision between the staff and the sword, every meridian in his body convulsed. Had he not, since childhood, secretly practiced beyond the Taiji Xuanqing Dao the Great Brahma Prajna of the Brahma Sound Temple—strengthening his meridians and shielding his body—he would long ago have coughed up blood and fallen. And yet Lu Xueqi ahead showed not the slightest strain; under her command Tianxuan's blue light only waxed brighter and its force greater, gradually pressing down the black mist and green glare of the staff.
While Zhang Qingyue inwardly cried his misery, Lu Xueqi on the other side was no less astonished. The other's plain, unremarkable staff not only possessed spiritual power enough to contend with Tianxuan, but seemed to carry a hidden drawing force, ceaselessly tugging at the essence and blood within her. Had her foundation not been firm, she feared she could not even have suppressed the hot blood churning in her breast.
At the thought, her qi and blood surged again, and she nearly lost her balance floating in the air. Shock, fury, and dread filled her. From the way the fight had gone, she sensed at once that her opponent's cultivation in the Taiji Xuanqing Dao was in truth not high at all, far beneath her own—but for some reason, wielded through this uncanny treasure, his power was immense, so that even Tianxuan could claim only the barest upper hand.
Lu Xueqi clenched her silver teeth, a killing frost on her lovely face, her robes billowing though no wind blew. Then, after Tianxuan struck the black staff a heavy blow in midair, Zhang Qingyue's whole body convulsed and the staff slowed for a moment.
Seizing the instant, Tianxuan flew back to her. Lu Xueqi's right hand darted out and caught it. The moment her jade-like palm touched the blade, ten thousand shafts of blue light blazed forth and swallowed her form; the sword quivered and gave out a sound like a dragon's cry, soaring up and up, and Lu Xueqi seemed to become one with Tianxuan, man and sword as a single body, rushing upward into the blue heaven.
By now Zhang Qingyue had forgotten all things outside himself. He felt only the bond of blood and flesh between himself and the black staff before him in midair growing ever stronger—felt, indeed, that the staff was a living thing, wildly exultant now, as a nameless killing aura rushed straight to his mind.
Hanging in the air, he threw back his head and gave a long, keening cry.
The sound shook the four wilds; heaven and earth changed color!
Black mist and green glare shot straight to the horizon; a great gale rose, and the clouds boiled!
Then suddenly a blue light flashed, and a shrill cry came from far to near, rising from the edge of hearing to a deafening roar that drowned out all other sound. Ten thousand beams of blue light now merged into one, forming a vast pillar of radiance that smote down from overhead, with a force that seemed bent on cleaving the Canglan Mountains in two.
Zhang Qingyue's face contorted; in that instant blood streamed from his eyes, ears, nose, and mouth. Yet his expression showed not a trace of fear—his eyes burned bright—and he too reached out and seized the black staff. In a flash the black mist and green glare that filled the sky seemed gathered into his hand as he drove straight up to meet the descending pillar of blue.
Beyond the platform, the young Qingyun disciples held their breath, eyes fixed and staring; not one of them held Zhang Qingyue in contempt any longer. Among the elder seat-holders, faces too changed one after another.
This bout had become a struggle of life and death.
Yet for some reason, no one came forward to stop it.