Chapter 91 — The Oriole
The Sword Questions the Heavens · Page 1 of 7
The attack came without warning. In the darkness the situation shifted all at once, and the disciples of the Hall of Longevity were caught off guard, unable to react in time.
In that lightning-fast instant, the cultivators of the righteous path—who had been lying in wait—emerged one after another, each summoning their magical treasures and charging straight in. Striking the unprepared with preparation naturally gave them an overwhelming advantage; and every righteous disciple present was an outstanding scion of a major sect. Their cultivation might not match someone like Yuyang Zi, but against ordinary disciples they were far superior.
For those few moments it was like tigers plunging into a flock of sheep. The righteous and the demonic paths had always loathed each other, and neither side held back. In the night, lights of every color flashed wildly, screams and shrieks filled the air, and the stench of blood surged up at once, drifting through the marsh.
At the very forefront of those lights shone a dazzling emerald cold gleam—none other than the Dragon-Slaying Sword of Lin Jinghong, disciple of Dragon Ridge Peak of the Canglan Sect.
This young man, who had never before shown his talents, was suddenly radiant and dazzling. The Dragon-Slaying Sword rang out with a thunderous keen note, emerald brilliance shooting skyward, and wrapping its master in light, he charged without the slightest scruple straight into the midst of the Hall of Longevity's ranks.
It was the most brilliant light in the night. His eyes were cold, yet deep in his pupils there seemed a feverishness, as if he thirsted for the blood that would burst forth beneath the cold gleam ahead.
The first several disciples of the Hall of Longevity were reduced to scattering rain of blood as the emerald light swept past.
The crowd cried out in alarm and swarmed around him, but Lin Jinghong seemed utterly heedless of the enemies striking at his back. He fixed his eyes ahead and charged straight for where the press was thickest, cutting and slashing every which way, unstoppable, and wherever he passed, flesh and blood flew.
Moments later the other righteous disciples caught up, each unleashing their magical treasures, and the battle with the Hall of Longevity's followers joined in earnest.
In the chaos of battle, Xiao Yichen was still shaken by Lin Jinghong, and called out loudly, "Junior Brother Lin, be careful—"
But Lin Jinghong seemed as though he could not hear anyone's warnings at all. At this moment he was utterly unlike the youth who had studied on Dragon Ridge Peak years ago—Dragon-Slaying Sword in hand, his body a blade of demon-slaying light.
Who knew how many disciples of the Hall of Longevity had surrounded him, yet he never once looked back. The Dragon-Slaying Sword flashed and whirled in the night, and countless sprays of blood rose and fell before him, soaking his robes.
Later, countless disciples of the Hall of Longevity chased behind him, while before him almost none dared stand against him; all fled in disarray, not daring to face this demon-mad figure.
Until, from deep in the darkness, came a harsh, wailing sound. A white light flashed, and a round object came spinning down furiously from the sky, smashing straight down at the crown of Lin Jinghong's head.
Lin Jinghong cried out, and the Dragon-Slaying Sword, which had been dancing as it slew, flew back in an instant. He seized it and thrust straight up at the sky; emerald light blazed forth, and he shot upward—but the disc in midair was even more formidable, black light and white radiance alternating, and within that expanse of emerald brilliance it ruthlessly pressed down.