Chapter 226 — One Sword Slashes Forth a Surging Sea of Blood

In the main hall, Xue Hu'er lay motionless on the dragon qilin's back and stealthily opened her eyes. She saw heads come rolling down, one after another.

The sight was uncanny beyond words: there was plainly no enemy at all, yet these experts of the Heaven-Man realm had only to set foot in that courtyard to die on the instant. The others were as wary as if facing a mighty foe.

One Heaven-Man realm expert shouted aloud, his sword qi like frost, silver rime wreathing his whole body, and stepped by degrees into the courtyard, his gaze alert, sweeping all around. His swordsmanship was fierce; countless gleams of sword light swam about him like the tiniest of fish, gliding merrily round and round.

He had adopted a passive, defensive stance: thousands upon thousands of tiny sword-fish circling and swimming, pregnant with his vast and mighty cultivation, and the moment they met hostility they would strike back at once, dealing the foe a single fatal blow. He had no choice in the matter.

The enemy came without shadow and went without trace; there was no making out where the enemy truly was or how he struck, and yet so many Heaven-Man realm experts had lost their lives already. It was eerie in the extreme. He met no danger at all, and yet still he dared not slacken his vigilance.

He moved his steps by degrees toward the main hall where Shen Mu and the others slept, and then he saw the painting hanging before the hall. Shen Mu had lit a candle before that painting, and it shone upon the scroll.

Painted upon it was the back of a middle-aged man bearing a sword; the man's face was turned in profile, as though he watched the painter out of the corner of his eye. In that corner-of-the-eye glance was revealed a killing intent that could shake the heavens.

That fleeting, startled glimpse the painter had caught and made into this painting.

Though there was only this one middle-aged man upon it, one felt nonetheless that the painting held endless tidings left unpainted, tidings hidden in the blank spaces of the scroll. It was the moment just after a dreadful battle had ended: countless corpses of mighty ones lay fallen at that middle-aged man's feet; in a towering sea of blood the bodies floated up, white bones dyed red with gore, glinting with a strange and otherworldly hue; numberless ghosts unjustly slain beneath the sword were being seized by underworld runners and dragged into the gloom.

And in that dark world, a demon god with two long horns of nine coils was holding a joyous wedding feast, celebrating these wronged souls of the mighty as his own guests and his own food.

This was the message hidden in the blank spaces of the painting.

In the courtyard, the Heaven-Man realm expert saw the painting and the man within it, and suddenly he froze where he stood. He saw his own head sliding from his neck; he felt all things slow to a crawl, as though he were slowly falling into a darkness that held no gleam of light at all, sinking deeper and deeper, endlessly, never reaching the bottom of the dark.

Thud. His head struck the ground and rolled twice, his eyes still staring wide. Suddenly a great hand reached over and snatched up his head.

Outside the courtyard nine others yet remained, standing there with faces full of alarm; only that white-browed old man, Daoist Green Mountain, kept some measure of composure, and it was he who had snatched up the head of that Heaven-Man realm expert. He was also the only grand master of the Life-Death realm among them all.

Daoist Green Mountain looked into the eyes of that Heaven-Man realm expert and let out a foul breath: "A fine sword.

" The other eight hurried to look, and said with trembling voices, "Senior Green Mountain, what have you found? " "Look at his eyes. " The eight pressed their heads close, and saw that in the left and right pupils of this Heaven-Man realm expert there lay a gleam of sword light apiece; the sword seemed to have thrust straight at him, and in the very next instant the expert's life was ended. Daoist Green Mountain held up the head, turned it toward the main hall where Shen Mu and the others slept, and said, "The sword came from there.

What on earth is in that place?

" He slowly shifted his body, by degrees seeking the angle, and then he saw the flickering light of the candle, and then a corner of the painting, and said, "It is a painting.

I can see the hem of the garment of the man within it.

. .

" "Senior Green Mountain, why go to such trouble?

Why not simply destroy this house and everyone in it?

" A Heaven-Man realm expert suddenly struck.

His sword pellet rose into the air, and from within the sword pellet a pillar of sword light, howling, stabbed toward the house where Shen Mu and the others were.

That sword pillar was immeasurably thick, and wherever it passed, all was ground to shreds by the whirling sword light. The Sword-Circling Technique created by the Imperial Preceptor Jingping! The Imperial Preceptor Jingping had not been a man to hoard his secrets; many of the sword techniques he created had long since spread abroad, and many in the sword sects of the jianghu practiced the swordsmanship of the Imperial Preceptor Jingping, and the man who had struck was a master among them.

His attainments in the Sword-Circling Technique stood above those of many others. That one sword was grand and mighty; had it swept the main hall, it would surely have ground all within to fine powder, leaving nothing behind.

Whether Shen Mu inside, or the Dutian Demon God, or the dragon qilin, all would have been smashed to bits. "Do not bear killing intent toward that painting!

" Daoist Green Mountain's face changed greatly; he would have struck out to stop it, but it was already too late.

The sword pillar seemed suddenly to meet an invisible rampart and came to a halt in midair; then the pillar crumbled inch by inch, and with a crack the sword pellet burst apart. Between the brows of the expert who had just struck there appeared a red mark; a single drop of fresh blood flowed from the mark, and then he swayed and toppled to the ground with a thud.

"On your guard!

" Daoist Green Mountain said sternly.

His aura burst forth; six booms sounded from within his body. The six great divine treasuries of Spirit Fetus, Five Luminaries, Six Harmonies, Seven Stars, Heaven-Man, and Life-Death were all opened at once. Around him, one Heaven-Man realm expert after another could not keep their footing, and were forced to retreat again and again by his towering aura.

Whoosh.

Behind Daoist Green Mountain a phantom of a god-devil emerged, dragon-headed and human-bodied, as though a deity had descended, half its body in the void, half stepping into reality. Daoist Green Mountain clutched a bright mirror in his hand, staring in utter panic at the main hall where Shen Mu and the others slept, and said in a hoarse voice, "Will you not make ready at once? Are you courting death?

" Just then, Shen Mu, dozing in the main hall, narrowed his eyes and saw a figure drift down from the wall behind him; he could see only the back of a middle-aged man, drawn out very long by the candlelight.

This middle-aged man who had walked down from the painting was tall and slender of frame, bearing a precious sword upon his back, utterly still and quiet, like a spirit without a body of flesh, drifting toward the courtyard.

That figure raised its head to look at the sky, drew the sword from its back, and danced the sword while softly singing; the sword light stirred, and fish and dragons danced. "One sword spills imperial blood in a surging sea; the hills and rivers remain, the heart a blank waste; I glance to left and right, the old kingdom is no more, and men still bind on the old attire.

. .

" Shen Mu did not dare move a muscle, feeling that in an instant the whole world between heaven and earth was filled with keen sword qi and sword light, weaving back and forth about him, roaming through time and space.