劍問蒼天 - 第224章 誅心 - 翰墨軒

Yet Ming Li knew well the depths of Daoyan's cultivation. He had joined the Mingwang Sect and studied the wondrous arts of the Heavenly Scroll precisely because he had long understood that if he relied solely on the Canglan sect's Daoist true methods and the Buddhist powers of the Fanyin Temple, he might exhaust a lifetime and still not rival that Immortal-Slaying Sword Formation. But the harder he trained and the deeper his understanding of cultivation and mystic arts grew, the more his hope dwindled day by day. Especially after the catastrophe of the beast demons ten years later, when Daoyan took action once more on Canglan Mountain, unsealed the Heavenly Mechanism Lock, and with the spiritual qi of heaven and earth as his foundation, crushed in a single stroke the Beast Sovereign who had once been invincible—that godlike majesty was beyond the reach of human power.

But never in his wildest dreams had he imagined he would meet such a Daoyan—a man whose whole body radiated a fearsome demonic power. His cultivation was no less unfathomable, but to Ming Li, it now seemed almost within reach.

A flicker of excitement passed faintly across his face.

Daoyan suddenly turned his head and fixed his eyes on Ming Li, cold light flickering in his gaze.

He had presided over the Canglan sect for nearly a hundred years and was renowned throughout the world. When Ming Li was still Zhang Qingyue, he had regarded Daoyan as nothing less than a god. Now, under that sudden stare, Ming Li felt an inexplicable tension rise in him, and his fists clenched of their own accord.

"You want to kill me?" Daoyan said coldly, eyes fixed on Ming Li.

Ming Li did not answer. He merely turned his hand over. Green light flashed, and the Soul-Devouring Demon Staff appeared in his grasp, its faint pure radiance threaded with wisps of shrill blood-red that drifted slowly through it.

For some reason, Daoyan's gaze fell on the Soul-Devourer in Ming Li's hand, and a hint of mockery seemed to touch the corner of his mouth. Then he turned his head to Tian Buhui and asked him the very same question: "You want to kill me?"

Tian Buhui was blunt. "Yes."

"Can you kill me?"

Tian Buhui gave a snort. "If I cannot, I will still try!"

Daoyan laughed a few strange, shrill laughs that carried far into the distance. "Good. I saw it back then—apart from myself and that dead fool Wan Jiangu, among the Canglan disciples of your generation, in talent and in courage alike, you truly are the foremost."

A shadow of sorrow crossed Tian Buhui's face. "What use is saying all this now?"

Daoyan's brows shot up. He suddenly opened his eyes wide and shouted, "Fine! Then let me ask you—why do you want to kill me?"

Tian Buhui shuddered and for a moment could not speak. A strange desolation had come over Daoyan's face, utterly at odds with his present viciousness, yet there it was nonetheless. He said coldly, "Junior Brother Tian, you want to kill me—is it for the principles and morals you have always revered, for justice and the hearts of men?"

In all these days, this was the first time Tian Buhui had heard him call him "Junior Brother Tian," and for a moment his heart was thrown into confusion. But he gritted his teeth and said, "Since you fell to demonic ways, you have done evil without end. If I do not kill you, I fear the sins you commit will only grow more numerous and more grievous!"

Daoyan let out a long, keening cry, as though laden with endless mockery, then fixed his eyes on him. "What a righteous, dignified speech. Then let me ask you—do you recall why I have become what I am today?"

Tian Buhui was stunned, and words failed him.

Daoyan gave a cold snort, glanced at Lu Xueling standing warily to one side, and said, "Your martial uncle refuses to speak. Perhaps you would be so good as to tell me?"

Lu Xueling's face paled further, but she unconsciously avoided Daoyan's gaze and said nothing.