Chapter 113 — The White Fox
The Sword Questions the Heavens · Page 3 of 7
The white fox started in alarm; the beautiful white fur all over its body stirred though there was no wind. It raised a forepaw as though about to work some strange spell—but at that very moment a dark red radiance abruptly rose from behind it, and almost in the same instant the white fox's body shuddered as if struck a heavy blow. Its eyes went wild, and in a moment all its demon power scattered to nothing; its body slumped and it collapsed.
In the next instant the azure shadow drifted near, and a pale hand reached out from the light, darting swift as thought for the white fox's throat.
The white fox gave a low moan, its eyes full of pain and helplessness, yet by its expression it seemed to accept its fate; it closed its eyes and waited for death.
What his fingers touched was fur still soft though cold. Ming Li's hand came to rest at the white fox's throat; the creature's vast body stood right before him, yet somehow at this moment it seemed no more than a fragile bird in his grasp.
Little Grey, clinging to Ming Li's chest, suddenly gave a few low calls.
Ming Li gazed silently at the white fox before him, and slowly withdrew his hand.
The white fox slowly opened its eyes, and what fell into its gaze was the figure of the man standing before it.
One man and one fox, gazing at each other thus!
"Boom!"
With a rumbling roar, the ice blocks swirling through the air behind Ming Li, deprived of the demon power that sustained them, came tumbling down one after another, crashing into one another, scattering ice crystals in all directions, while a white, freezing mist drifted everywhere and swept over from behind, completely engulfing the figures of Ming Li and the white fox.
For a long while, the ice dust slowly settled, and the figures of Ming Li and the white fox emerged once more.
At some point Little Grey had clambered back onto Ming Li's shoulder. Its three eyes blinked and blinked, looking at Ming Li, then at the white fox before them, then peering all around, as though it had suddenly taken an interest in the beautiful ice crystals scattered across the ground. It hopped down from Ming Li's shoulder, sat on the floor, and picking up a few lovely shards that gave off blue ghost-light, began to play with them.
The white fox's gaze shifted from Ming Li to Little Grey, rested there a long, deep moment, then returned to Ming Li. After a pause it spoke: "Why don't you kill me?"
Its voice now sounded plainly calmer. Ming Li did not answer at once; his gaze drifted involuntarily to what lay behind the white fox, and quickly he found what he had guessed.
A dark red iron chain, thick as a man's arm, was locked about the white fox's waist. As one looked now, red light faintly rippled within the chain, and even from a distance that uncanny power could be felt.
The white fox's sudden loss of strength in the midst of battle had clearly been the work of this restraint. Small wonder—without so formidable a binding, how could the Mystic Fire Altar have held the Nine-Tailed Celestial Fox, with the peerless demon power legend ascribed to it?
The white fox looked at Ming Li. He did not answer its question, and it seemed not to mind, for what it cared about was something else entirely.
"What of Little Six? Did you kill it and take the Mystic Fire Mirror?" Its voice sounded low, utterly weary.
Ming Li was silent. After a long moment he said slowly: "This Little Six you speak of—was it a six-tailed spirit fox?"
The white fox's vast body trembled slightly, and it lowered its head.
"It's dead!" Ming Li's voice was not loud, but it was very clear.
The white fox's gaze rested on the ground before it. Faintly it said: "How did it die?"