Chapter 224 — Striking at the Heart
The Sword Questions the Heavens · Page 4 of 7
Yet formidable as Ming Li had become, the Daoyan he faced was a figure of the first order in this world. To command the matchless Immortal-Slaying Sword Formation of Canglan Mountain, one must have cultivated the Taiji Profound Pure Way to the Taiqing realm—and now, at last, all present beheld his true power.
The Soul-Devouring Demon Staff came on, trailing wind and thunder, seemingly irresistible. Before it even reached him, the layer of black qi around Daoyan had begun to churn violently, as though forced by a vast power and about to scatter. But after that first flicker of surprise, Daoyan recovered his composure and stood firm and unmoving. Suddenly his right hand thrust out from the black qi. His long, slender fingers formed a sword sign before him, tracing figures in the empty air, pointing like the wind. Where his fingers passed, green light blazed in answer, and in moments he had drawn a Taiji diagram of yin and yang.
Once the yin-yang taiji diagram took shape, it spun without cease. In the air around it, the wind suddenly grew sharp and urgent. All about was pitch-black, and only this pattern blazed with light. In no time at all, it had formed a fiercely revolving vortex of air currents in midair.
Shihun came roaring in, and the taiji diagram barred its path. The two collided, and by all appearances both bore a force of ten thousand catties that nothing could withstand. Yet at the very instant of impact, apart from a faint, shrill hiss that tore through the air overhead, there was not a sound at all.
The taiji diagram was driven back a full three feet by Shihun—yet it was precisely those three feet that exhausted every last bit of Shihun's assault, leaving it no strength to advance another step. Moreover, the blue light gradually dimmed, until it seemed to turn with the spinning of that vortex.
Ming Li gave a long cry and leaped into the air. Shihun's halo of light flashed at once, and it flew back. Dao Yan the Perfected One shot it a sidelong glance, gave a cold laugh, and pointed his sword incantation. The yin-yang taiji diagram flared brilliantly and struck at the figure in midair.
Shrill cries rang out across the sky, and the sound of air being torn was unceasing. Ming Li's figure flickered in and out of sight, darting to and fro with ghostly speed. But Dao Yan the Perfected One seemed to possess the divine power of fiery eyes and golden pupils; he was not in the least deceived by Ming Li's strange arts. The taiji pattern in midair clung to Ming Li's figure without letting go, and closed in ever nearer.
At last Ming Li slowed, and the taiji diagram caught up with him. A cold light flashed in Dao Yan the Perfected One's eyes, and the yin-yang taiji diagram in midair blazed with blue radiance, swelling in the wind to fully four times its former size and cleaving down from above.
Lu Xueling's body trembled slightly. Tian Buhui, for some reason none could guess, nodded slowly.
The taiji diagram cleaved down, and yet Dao Yan the Perfected One's expression changed. With a strange cry he paid no heed to the taiji diagram gathered in midair by his true arts, and his whole body shot up into the sky. The taiji pattern's blow struck only empty air—Ming Li's figure had vanished—and at the same time the diagram, as though seized by some outside force, scattered to the winds.
And at the very moment Dao Yan the Perfected One's body flew up, a tremendous rumbling rose from beneath the ground of the charity manor's courtyard. Within a space two zhang across, the earth shook violently. Moments later, like a earth-dragon howling as it burst forth, all the stones and sand roared up from the ground, and even that ruined house collapsed as well, countless fragments of wood mingling with the sand and earth. All of it was then swept by some nameless mighty force into an immense, dense torrent of sand and stone that thundered after Dao Yan the Perfected One's figure in midair.