Chapter 69 — The Past
劍問蒼天 · Page 1 of 6
~r期:~09月21r~
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Net. Deep in the night, the forest had by now been lit up like day by the radiance of countless magical treasures; from the depths of the woods to the most fiercely contested clearing, it seemed that sharp, cold lights flew everywhere, and beneath those beautiful rays of five colors, bright red blood kept spouting upward, splattering across the faintly trembling trees.
It congealed into beads of blood, dripping down in silence.
Lu Xueling gave a clear cry and landed on the ground; in an instant, rings of blue light as clear as the heavens and as pure as water burst outward in the night from the Divine Sword of the Heavenly Dipper in her hand, like the gentle glance of a beautiful woman sweeping over this mortal world.
Countless lush branches and leaves all turned outward together with a great rustling clatter.
The black-clad demon cult followers around her howled without cease; though some fought with all their strength to block her, they were sent flying all the same. Since escaping from the Abyss of the Dead, her cultivation seemed to have advanced a great deal.
Zhang Qingyue, watching from afar, drew in a sharp breath, both startled and admiring; but then his attention returned to his own surroundings, and he saw that Song Dayi, Du Biyan, and the others were gradually being worn down. The demon cult followers besieging their Dazhu Peak were few in number, but their cultivation exceeded that of the others around them, and judging by their garb, every robe bore a skull emblem—whether that was the mark of the Nether King's sect, he could not say.
Tian Lingsu stood before Zhang Qingyue, her face slightly pale and fine beads of sweat rising on her forehead, yet she wielded the amber-red silk with every gesture, not a trace of panic in her.
Originally, among the disciples of Dazhu Peak, Tian Lingsu was the youngest save for Zhang Qingyue himself, but her aptitude far surpassed that of several elder brothers; in cultivation, none but Song Dayi ranked above her. Yet the demon cult followers around them—whether because they saw she was a woman or for some other reason—directed their main assault at her all along. By now, even Zhang Qingyue could tell that Tian Lingsu was struggling.
The night wind stole quietly through the forest that had become a battlefield; from the depths of the darkness, it seemed countless eyes were watching.
The shouts around them grew more urgent. Zhang Qingyue knitted his brows and looked outward, and saw that in this short while the situation had shifted again: the demon cult had responded, and Lu Xueling, Facheng, Qi Hao, and the others, who had been sweeping all before them, were now locked against masters of their own, entangled in place—not yet losing, but unable to break free.
Meanwhile, around the orthodox disciples of lesser cultivation, more and more demon cult followers gathered; shrieks rose without end, and the tide of battle began to turn back toward the demon cult.
Zhang Qingyue ground his teeth, drew out the Dark Iron Staff, and would not rest any longer—he must at least lend a hand to his elder brothers and Sister Ling'er. But no sooner had he moved than Tian Lingsu cried out in alarm ahead; her figure checked, as though she had stumbled over something, and in an instant three or four more streaks of treasure-light came hurtling toward her.
Song Dayi and the others were greatly alarmed but could not reach her in time. Zhang Qingyue, without a second thought, charged forward—yet even so he saw he would be a step too late.
At this critical moment, Tian Lingsu's lovely face drained of color, nearly white as paper; both hands flew, and the amber-red silk whipped "swish, swish, swish" before her to block the way—but it was too late. In the blink of an eye, two treasures, one white and one black, flying faster than sight, rushed at her face.