Chapter 134 — Baleful Aura
The Sword Questions the Heavens · Page 1 of 6
Two hundred li north of the Central Plains' "Xianyong Mountain" stands the towering "Huqi Mountain" (Note 1). Seen from its foot, jagged rocks pierce the sky, abrupt and perilous. Yet upon the entire lofty peak there was not a single blade of grass nor a tree—utterly desolate. To the left of the range, deep springs welling up from within the earth gathered into a river called the "Sheng River," which flowed off to the northeast, gathering tributaries all the way until, three hundred li on, it poured into another great river, the "Fen River." Legend held since ancient times that this river produced quantities of a certain grey-green precious jade—though no one had ever actually seen it.
The headquarters of the "Nether King Sect," one of the three great factions of the Demonic Cult, was built deep within the hard, massive rock of this mountain, and was rarely known to outsiders. Led by Ming Li, Xiaobai and the Great Shaman's party, after fifteen days of hard travel, finally arrived here.
Because the Great Shaman's body was truly too weak, the three of them—plus the monkey Xiao Hui—had no choice but to go on foot; along the way Ming Li had even hired a carriage for the Great Shaman to ride in.
The hardships of the long road had left all three of them weary and travel-stained, yet upon the persons of the Great Shaman and Ming Li the marks showed in utterly different ways.
Ming Li's injuries healed day by day. Youth, perhaps!
The Great Shaman, by contrast, looked worse and worse by the day—far more ravaged than when he had left the Seven Li Cave of the Southern Frontier fifteen days before. His face was ashen as dead embers; and once they entered the mountain paths, with no carriage left to ride, he had to pause for breath every few steps even with Ming Li and Xiaobai supporting him—his strength was truly pitiful. Ming Li was frantic with worry within, and at times could not help but fear: if this shaman who had saved his life should die halfway before they reached Huqi Mountain, it would be a regret to the end of his days.
Fortunately, at midday, under a stretch of genial sunlight, the three of them at last glimpsed the bald summit of Huqi Mountain.
They halted. Though they had not yet reached Huqi Mountain, Ming Li nonetheless let out a breath of relief and turned to the Great Shaman. "Elder, that barren mountain ahead is the place we seek. A little further from here, and by late tonight we should reach its foot."
The Great Shaman let out a long breath, lifted his eyes toward the range, and smiled with a touch of weariness. "Set your mind at ease, young man. Before I see that slumbering friend of yours, I will not die."
Ming Li started, then said with a shade of apology, his voice low, "Elder, I did not mean—"
The Great Shaman drew back his aged eyes, patted him on the shoulder, and shook his head with a smile. "I took no offense. Were I in your place, I'd likely be even more anxious than you."
Ming Li fell silent, then smiled. "Elder, we've walked a long while. Let us rest here a moment—we still have road ahead."
The Great Shaman did seem genuinely weary; he nodded, and with Ming Li's support found a fairly flat stone beside the mountain path and sat down.
"Chee-chee!" Xiao Hui, who had been clinging to Ming Li's shoulder all along, cried twice, leaped down, and landed on the ground. Of them all, Xiao Hui had been the most spirited on the journey, never showing a sign of fatigue.
Now the monkey gazed all around; seeing sparse woods on either side of the road, it gave a couple of cries and darted in, vanishing from sight in an instant.