Chapter 42 — Desperate Straits
The Sword Questions the Heavens · Page 3 of 7
Yet the Vale of Death Spirits proved truly immense. He flew for a good while and still had not struck anything. Zhang Qingyue himself could feel his speed gradually slackening, and he was drifting slowly downward; it seemed the residual force was fading.
Landing on the ground would surely hurt, but being bruised and battered was far better than smashing into a wall. Just as Zhang Qingyue was rejoicing inwardly, he suddenly felt the darkness ahead solidify into a mountain and press down upon him head-on.
A sheer cliff like a mountain stood across his path. Zhang Qingyue ducked his head and shrank his body, then slammed into it with all his might.
"Bang!"
Shattered rock flew everywhere, golden sparks danced, and Zhang Qingyue's whole body convulsed. With a cry of "Wa!" he spat out a mouthful of blood that splashed across his lapels. In that single instant he felt as though his entire body had come apart; had it not been for the true arts of the Daoist and Buddhist schools protecting him from within, he would have lost his life then and there.
Even so, he was far from comfortable. His whole body paused against the cliff, then slid down limply, and as he fell he struck the hard rock face several times. Amid the thudding sounds his body was wracked with pain, and he did not know how many bones he had broken; he only felt that there was not a single intact part left in him.
After falling in this way for a while, and after yet another impact, Zhang Qingyue was flung outward. By now he had all but given up hope, but as he turned, by the faint light of the Dark Iron Staff at his chest, he dimly saw a dark shape not far below—something like an old tree growing from the sheer cliff.
In this critical moment, it did not occur to him to wonder how a tree could grow on the hard rock face in a dead place like the Vale of Death Spirits; by instinct he reached out and grabbed for that old tree.
The wind rushed past him, and he fell all the faster, but in that flash of lightning he finally caught hold of the old tree.
At his touch it was indeed not cold like the cliff stone, but rather somewhat warm. Yet the force of his fall was so immense that the old tree seemed not to be firmly rooted. Though Zhang Qingyue grasped the trunk, the tree shuddered violently, earth and stone raining down, and it swayed several times; then with a thunderous crash, tree and man fell together.
At the moment of falling, Zhang Qingyue felt his heart sink as though into a bottomless abyss. In his panic his body continued to drop, but checked by this, his speed was somewhat reduced. He heard a great crash, and struck the ground heavily, and thereupon lost consciousness.
He did not know how long it had been when Zhang Qingyue slowly came to. Before he even opened his eyes he felt agonizing pain throughout his body, as though he had fallen apart. Yet pain meant he was still alive, so his heart was not entirely miserable.
He opened his eyes, and at the sight before him he could not help but stare blankly.
He was now in a closed and damp place, which by the look of it was most likely a stone cave. The ceiling was the height of two men, but the sides were only three chi wide—very narrow. The walls were of cold, hard stone, exactly like that of the cliff just now; if this was not inside the cliff itself, it must be close by it.
Yet the stone of this cave seemed to contain some luminous substance. There were not many of them, but they were large, each emitting a soft light that made the cave quite bright.
Zhang Qingyue carefully surveyed the cave and judged that it seemed to be a passage. At one end was a pile of rubble that blocked the way completely; the other end extended inward, but turned a corner not far off, so that he could not see clearly what lay within.