Chapter 173 — Escape
The Sword Questions the Heavens · Page 4 of 6
After a stir and a clamor, suddenly several shouts of rebuke rose from the crowd, and at the same moment several beams of enchanted light flew at Ming Li. At this moment Ming Li's whole mind was fixed on his struggle with the Immortal Slayer, and he had no attention to spare for what went on around him; he made no response at all. A moment later those several enchanted weapons struck him full and square upon the back.
Ming Li's body convulsed; his qi and blood surged, his throat turned sweet, and another mouthful of fresh blood sprayed out—straight onto the Immortal Slayer. The sword had already fallen silent, but with this sudden spatter of blood, a red light flashed and it seemed once more to gather strength. Ming Li felt it in his own flesh; before he could even heed the grave wound at his back, he felt within his body that the Immortal Slayer's monstrous devouring force had suddenly swelled again.
Lightning and thunder flashed through his heart; he understood that this was truly the narrow line between life and death. If the Immortal Slayer regained its ascendancy, he feared he would have no chance left at all, and would end withered and drained. At this thought he gave a wild roar, cast all caution aside, and with every ounce of strength in his body, with the cultivation of a lifetime, with the divine power of the three true dharmas just now comprehended as one, he struck with all his might.
No one saw Ming Li make any move; they only saw him take the blows of several magic treasures head-on, blood spraying from his mouth. The red glow of the Immortal Slayer flickered, and just as it seemed about to flare bright, a tremendous roar and shriek burst forth between Ming Li and the Immortal Slayer, mingled with the sound of bones cracking and snapping. Ming Li's whole body was driven out by some vast and inexplicable force, like an arrow loosed from a bowstring, streaking over the heads of the crowd and falling far off into the distant woods.
The Canglan Mountain disciples were struck dumb with shock, frozen where they stood. After a long moment, someone came to his senses and shouted, "After him! We must not let that fiend escape!"
The cry woke them all, and in an instant countless figures were speeding toward the place where Ming Li had fallen. Everyone present had seen it plainly: Ming Li had been gravely wounded in his duel with the Immortal Slayer, and now was the perfect moment to hunt him down.
The crowd rose into the air and gave chase, one after another, until only the people of Great Zhu Peak and Little Zhu Peak remained rooted to the spot. Song Dayi and the others could neither give chase nor not give chase; they could not bring themselves to pursue him. And on Wen Pei's side there came a cry of alarm—Lu Xueling had fainted dead away.
As the women of Little Zhu Peak rushed in frantic confusion to tend to Lu Xueling, a sound suddenly emerged from amid the uproar—a sound most faint and small.
Faint as it was, somehow it was sharp as a needle, piercing into the heart of every Canglan Mountain disciple present. It was like the sound of something quietly breaking—coming from the Immortal Slayer beside them.
Every face drained of blood at once, as though that soft sound were the echo of the world's last day. Slowly they turned their heads, as though the motion cost them all their strength.
Under the gaze of all, the legendary Immortal Slayer—the ancient sword standing quietly point-down in the stone flags of the ground—gave out once more a tiny, minute sound of shattering from the fine crack, now widened, upon its plain old blade.
The crack slowly grew, creeping outward—slow, yet irresistible—spreading across the plain and once-sacred blade, until the Immortal Slayer gave voice once more:
Crack!
With a sound so light and crisp, half the blade, together with the hilt, fell to the ground, while the other half remained thrust into the earth.