劍問蒼天 - 第66章 吸血老妖 - 翰墨軒

Zhang Qingyue was taken aback and said in surprise: "Who is Jiang Laosan?"

The Vampire Fiend choked on his words, and fury rose in his heart. On any other day he would have loosed a spell at once and drained this fellow's blood dry first and asked questions later. But the thought that a Canglan disciple should carry a vampire spell of no low cultivation—this he must get to the bottom of, no matter what.

So he forced down his wrath, though his voice now sounded like a ghost's wail and a wolf's howl: "The one you killed with the Vampire ** in the Ten Thousand Bats Ancient Cave on Mount Kongsang!"

Zhang Qingyue's heart jolted. At the words "vampire," he remembered at once, and that dreadful scene rose before his mind's eye. He could not help tensing, and unconsciously his hand crept toward the dark iron staff at his waist.

The dark iron staff rested quietly at his waist, like a demon sunk in slumber.

Seeing him silent for so long, as if lost in thought, the Vampire Fiend felt this was the very height of contempt—ten times more "insolent" than those Canglan masters who had hunted him in years past.

His temper had always been savage. Had some doubt not still lingered in his heart, he would never have endured so long. This rage was no small thing: with a great roar he cried, "Little wretch of the Canglan Sect, give me back my disciple's life!"

Zhang Qingyue started in alarm and stepped back. All around him rose a cacophony of ghostly wails, and a bitter yin wind blew, chilling to the bone. Even the back of his neck felt cold, and every hair on his body seemed to stand on end.

The red skull in midair suddenly opened its grim, shadowy mouth, and in an instant five black rays flashed out from it and fell before Zhang Qingyue. After a moment, they actually staggered and trembling to their feet.

Zhang Qingyue gathered himself on guard, knowing that this demon cult fiend's sorcery was strange and sinister. But when he looked closely, he could not help his scalp prickling. Those five figures, growing steadily larger, were five ghosts of differing shapes but equally hideous faces—one with a bloody maw, another with fangs and jagged teeth—and a stench of foulness and filth came rushing at his nose.

In less than a moment these five ghosts had grown into giants half a body taller than Zhang Qingyue. Behind them, the Vampire Fiend formed strange seals with both hands, tapping and patting the red skull, swaying now and then, and the ghosts moved in response—clearly they were being controlled by this old devil.

Now, as if set off by the red light the skull gave forth, even the Vampire Fiend's eyes seemed tinged with red. He gave a cold laugh, and his ten fingers suddenly clenched tight with a "hiss," clamping hard upon the red skull.

Almost in time with his movement, the eyes of those five giant ghouls suddenly blazed red, casting deep, ferocious looks, and together they threw back their heads and howled at the sky.

"Woo-ah..."

Zhang Qingyue's body shook violently, his senses all but overwhelmed. He felt only ghostly shadows flickering all around, and the wailing of ghosts was like an awl driven through his ears straight into his skull, a torment past bearing.

The five ghouls howled at the sky, and a moment later they all lunged at once, the wind screaming. Zhang Qingyue strove to dodge backward and only barely escaped the blow. But before he could steady himself, the five ghouls struck together, and amid their howls they drove their ghost claws all at once into the ground.

Zhang Qingyue was in midair, the dark iron staff gripped tight in his hand, and his heart grew a little easier. The staff seemed to sense something as well; it kindled with a pale blue-green light and slowly began to glow.