Chapter 185 — Mad Dog
The Sword Questions the Heavens · Page 6 of 7
Only his few scraps of magic seemed the merest dabbler's trick; though akin to what Daoists call "the Five Ghosts' Moving House" and the like, it did shift the Wild Wolf Daoist through the air, yet midway through the casting, for some reason, his hand slipped, and the two of them came tumbling down out of midair instead, in utter wretched disarray. And a mercy it was that when they fell, the Wild Wolf Daoist landed atop Zhou Yixuan; otherwise the force of that fall alone would likely have finished him.
But there was no time now to think of such things; the beast-demon had spotted them in a trice and, in a fury, was already lunging again. Zhou Yixuan and the Wild Wolf Daoist had landed dizzy and dazed; the Wild Wolf Daoist, somewhat the better off, was nonetheless gravely wounded and could not dodge in time. Helpless, they could only wait for death. Across his dog-face a flicker of bewilderment stole, and he turned his head as though hoping to see something.
In that flash of a moment, unexpectedly, a figure came charging in and threw itself before the Wild Wolf Daoist and Zhou Yixuan, and the voice cried: "Grandfather... Daoist..."
Beneath the beast-demon's cold, keen claws and fangs, little Wan's face, despairing and weeping, yet calm!
In that instant the Wild Wolf Daoist felt a rush of hot blood surge to his head, his whole body seething as though boiling, and he gazed upon that figure, that frail and lovely shadow!
"Hong!"
With a great crash, two figures collided.
Little Wan staggered and fell to one side, all over mud and filth, but she paid it no mind at all; turning her head, she saw the Wild Wolf Daoist, who had thrust her aside, lunge forward and grapple with the beast-demon, bearing it down to the ground. In its furious rage the beast-demon thrust out its claws and raked and stabbed wildly at the Wild Wolf Daoist's back, flesh and blood flying in an instant, and still the Wild Wolf Daoist clung to the beast-demon with all his might, not the least sign of letting go.
Little Wan and Zhou Yixuan were both ashen now, and behind them the crowd were all frozen in terror; after a moment, someone—none knew who—let out a great shout, and everyone who could still move rushed forward and, surrounding the beast-demon, seized whatever was at hand—and where there was nothing, their own palms and feet and even teeth—and laid on with all their strength against that savage beast-demon.
At first the beast-demon still roared aloud and fought desperately, but after a while its voice began to fade, growing fainter and fainter, until at last it made no sound at all. And the crowd around it seemed gone mad as well, pounding away at the beast-demon's body without pause.
Until Zhou Yixuan was the first to come to his senses and hastily called the crowd off—saving lives came first—and only then did the others slowly stop. And with that release of breath, in an instant many of them collapsed to the ground.
There were a few spots of blood on little Wan's face too, but she heeded them not at all; she set to with all her strength to drag at the beast-demon's carcass, wanting to pull the Wild Wolf Daoist out from under it. Yet tug as she might, the beast-demon and the Wild Wolf Daoist could not be parted, and little Wan, alarmed and frantic, was near to weeping.
In the end it was Zhou Yixuan who kept his head; after careful examination he found that the Wild Wolf Daoist's two hands had actually pierced through the beast-demon's tough hide straight into its chest and lodged there fast—no wonder they could not be parted. Having seen this, Zhou Yixuan quickly called for help, and with the aid of such others as still had strength, they at last drew the Wild Wolf Daoist's blood-slicked hands out of the beast-demon's body and separated the two.