Chapter 224 — Striking at the Heart
The Sword Questions the Heavens · Page 5 of 7
Attack and defense had, in an instant, been strangely reversed.
Yet Dao Yan the Perfected One, though in midair, showed no sign of alarm. Watching the giant torrent of earth that Ming Li had gathered and hurled at him with strange arts, the black qi around his body gave a violent shudder, then rolled forward of its own seeming will, as though drawn by an invisible hand, forming before him a black wall of qi two feet square.
In that instant the earth torrent, of unimaginable power, arrived and smashed heavily against the black qi wall. This time it was like a thunderclap in the heavens; at the fiercest point one could dimly see several fine threads of lightning flash past. A colossal roar swept across heaven and earth in an instant, and a wind of vast, invisible force descended like a towering wave, surging out in every direction from the black qi wall in midair as its center.
In an instant the abandoned charity manor was utterly destroyed. Everything was torn to shreds by that mighty force and blown by an even greater wind toward some unknown distance. Even the few solitary trees standing sparsely nearby, caught within the range of this breathtaking contest of arts, were torn up by the roots, stripped of leaves and branches, and sent flying off into the distance.
Tian Buhui and Lu Xueling were no ordinary folk. They had long since risen into the air and stood in midair, evading the sand and earth that rolled below like a flood. Yet the wind in the sky was so fierce it cut like a blade; with their cultivation, they could still feel such pain—which shows how violent this exchange was.
Yet the situation in the field did change after all. The black qi wall looked flimsy, but amid the ceaseless flashing lightning and thunder it slowly pressed downward, and that earth-dragon torrent of terrible might was pressed down inch by inch.
Ming Li's cultivation had advanced greatly, but in the end he was still no match for Dao Yan the Perfected One's centuries of quiet cultivation.
Tian Buhui watched the wind and thunder that never ceased in the field, and in his eyes too there seemed to roll wind and thunder. After hesitating several times, he set his jaw, and the crimson flame in his hand blazed high. With a great shout, man and sword became one, and he flew into the fray.
Behind him, Lu Xueling was slightly taken aback, and seemed about to speak but held her tongue.
The crimson flame burned like a blazing fire, wrapping Tian Buhui's whole body in its light, dazzling beyond measure—almost like a phoenix crying to the heavens from within the flames, save that it looked a trifle plump. Yet awkward as his posture was, Tian Buhui's cultivation was no trifling matter. Even Dao Yan the Perfected One dared not make light of this sword-riding charge. With a whistle he shifted his body aside, yielding to Tian Buhui's sharp momentum.
The black qi wall dispersed in an instant, gathering once more around Dao Yan the Perfected One's body. The giant earth torrent in midair paused for a moment, then with a crash, as though losing the support of its force, crumbled and fell in a shower, like a rain of earth from the sky. A figure flashed out from within it, grave of face, yet not the least bit panting or strained—it was Ming Li.
Everyone had seen this last exchange with their own eyes. Dao Yan the Perfected One's arts were indeed profound beyond mortal understanding. Ming Li had mastered four volumes of the Heavenly Book, but perhaps because he had studied them only briefly, his cultivation was still no match for Dao Yan the Perfected One, who had already attained the Grand Purity realm—yet the gap was not great, and he was well able to give battle. This single exchange alone, if spread abroad, would be enough to shake the world and make Ming Li's name resound.