Chapter 141 — Bewilderment
The Sword Questions the Heavens · Page 1 of 6
A gray radiance seeped faintly from the cold edge of the beast fang, sweeping across the face of the Wild Wolf Daoist. The man lying before him was the very one who had destroyed the Blood Refining Hall with his own hands.
A flicker of light danced in his eyes, as though some thought warred within him. Yet such an opportunity came once in a thousand years. What manner of man was Mingli on ordinary days? The Wild Wolf Daoist would never have dared dream he could kill this man—but now Mingli seemed to have lost his mind entirely, and this was the perfect moment to exact his long-nurtured vengeance.
A savage light flashed in the Wild Wolf Daoist's eyes, and the beast-fang treasure came slashing down.
The wind sang in a mournful gust, and a sudden faint shrill of air being pierced tore open the stillness of the deep night.
Before the treasure could reach him, the wind of its passing had already struck the despondent man. The disheveled hair scattered across his brow was blown aside, revealing a face with closed eyes.
Perhaps a little pale, the Wild Wolf Daoist thought abruptly. In all his life he had never seen a man as strange as Mingli, and he could not fathom what it was that could make this man—who appeared so unshakably strong—sink into such deathly despair.
But neither did he wish to know. In his heart, the Blood Refining Hall had always been something of great importance—an importance that far surpassed even that of Elder Nian and the others who had once held its power. So when Mingli led his followers and drove them to the brink, Elder Nian and the rest had surrendered one after another, yet the Wild Wolf Daoist alone had, to everyone's surprise, held firm.
And now—now was the perfect chance for revenge!
The Wild Wolf Daoist had already begun to imagine the blood spraying forth and splashing across his face. But in that flash of a lightning moment, another thought suddenly came to him: if he killed this man, would little Wan behind him grieve? Perhaps she would never speak to him again...
After all, between little Wan and Mingli there was a past the Wild Wolf Daoist did not know. But the mere fact that little Wan insisted on bringing Mingli along and caring for him told him plainly what their bond was.
The Wild Wolf Daoist did not know why, but his mind had turned to a tangled mess; in that brief instant, countless thoughts raced through his head. Yet the beast fang in his hand nonetheless came piercing down through the air!
In the blink of an eye it reached the despondent man's throat—was about to pierce through.
A gigantic arm suddenly reached out from the darkness.
Soundless, apparition-like, it appeared before the Wild Wolf Daoist without warning. Before he could even react, that enormous palm had blatantly seized his beast-fang treasure in a crushing grip.
The fang's tremendous momentum still dragged the giant hand down a fraction—but only that fraction. Thereafter the whole fang was held in that grip as though forged of iron, unable to move, poised at Mingli's throat, a hair's breadth from piercing his neck. Yet no matter how the Wild Wolf Daoist strained with all his power and arts, he could not drive it an inch further.
The Wild Wolf Daoist turned pale with fright and looked up—and in an instant felt all the blood in his body run cold. There in the darkness above him blazed three orbs of fire in a triangular formation, and the uppermost flame in particular held within it a faint, solemn gold and a sinister, ferocious blood-crimson.
Try as he might, the Wild Wolf Daoist could not begin to guess why the gold that symbolized demon-subduing power and the crimson of blood-devouring could blend together. All he knew at this moment was that the monster in the darkness could seize his beast fang with a single hand—and such cultivation was far beyond anything he could fight.