Chapter 166 — Crimson Flame
The Sword Questions the Heavens · Page 2 of 5
Before his words had died away, the giant wind pillar suddenly abandoned its former slow descent and plunged downward at a sharply accelerated speed, hurtling straight for the sea of clouds. At the same moment, the roaring of countless beast-demons grew fiercer still, piercing through to the highest heavens, shrill to the extreme. Every face among the righteous path changed; confronted with this unprecedented and uncanny sorcery, for a time no one knew how to respond.
Seeing the wind pillar about to touch the sea of clouds, several bold fellows among the righteous disciples could at last restrain themselves no longer. With loud shouts they were the first to summon their magic treasures and strike at the tempest. Seasoned elders who noticed at once shouted for them to stop, but in such chaos a few still broke forward.
Several immortal swords and magic treasures, blazing with brilliant light, plunged into the wind pillar. In an instant they were swallowed within—yet like clay oxen into the sea, not the faintest sound came back. Then, as if something had been startled, a rumbling suddenly rose from within the pillar, and several thick gray-black whirlwinds shot straight out like tangible things toward those few disciples.
The righteous path was greatly alarmed and rushed to defend. But those whirlwinds seemed to possess spirit; when others tried to block them they passed through as if insubstantial, yet when they reached those few disciples the black whirlwinds suddenly bared their hideous faces. Amid the shrill howling of the wind they wrapped around those disciples in an instant, then with a "swish" shrank back again—so fast that no one had time to react, and all could only watch helplessly as those few disciples, though shielded by the crowd, were torn bodily into the uncanny giant wind pillar.
From some remote and hidden place, faint screams drifted out. Within the wind pillar a blood-red light suddenly flickered, and moments later there was no further sign.
The righteous path fell silent as cicadas in winter, staring at one another.
Light blazed forth, and three beams of radiance descended from the sky, landing before the righteous host. As the glare faded, the figures of Dao Yan Zhenren, Sage Pucheng, and Yun Yifeng were revealed. All three wore grim expressions. Dao Yan Zhenren waved a hand and said urgently, "All disciples, withdraw! Elders, remain here."
A stir ran through the crowd, but most of the younger disciples quickly withdrew. The greater part of them were disciples of the three great sects and naturally understood what was at stake; even at such a perilous turning point, most kept their composure, and the situation was not greatly disordered. Soon only the three masters and some ten elders remained on the field. In that great battle just past, several of the few surviving elders had already fallen.
The muscles of Dao Yan Zhenren's face twitched slightly; then he looked no more, but turned his head to fix his eyes on the great enemy such as he had never seen in his life.
The giant black wind pillar, manipulated by an invisible and uncanny force, descended from the heavens. Amid the wild wind and black vapor, the Beast Lord youth's cold gaze seemed to pierce through all the slaughter of the world; he looked coldly over, meeting Dao Yan Zhenren's stern eyes across the void.
Dao Yan Zhenren felt a faint shock at heart. Though the Beast Lord far ahead had the form of a man, there was somehow not the slightest human feeling in his eyes. That cold gaze seemed to regard all things in the world as mindless beasts; the intent to kill was thick and strange, truly like that of a vicious, savage animal.