Chapter 495 — The Broken Arm, the Blood Grudge

Ban Gongcuo came forward as well. The two of them labored to carry the corpses out and fling them into the darkness, saying not a word.

Before long all the corpses had been thrown out. Shen Mu kept the primordial weapons of these otherworldly demons, stowing them in his Taotie Pouch, and then called back the weapons he had cast away in the fighting.

Pff, pff, pff—

Trails of bloody light spurted from the Dragon Qilin's body, and several flying swords flew out of him and merged with Shen Mu's sword core.

The Dragon Qilin looked at his still-bleeding wounds, then at Shen Mu, and cried, "Sect Master, did you stab me?"

"I did not. Don't talk nonsense—it was a stray blow," Shen Mu denied flatly.

Ban Gongcuo hesitated, then, while the Dragon Qilin was licking his wounds, roused his blade core, and several blades came loose from the Qilin's rump and merged with it.

The Dragon Qilin was furious: "Great Venerable, you stabbed me too?"

Ban Gongcuo coughed up blood again and again and looked at Shen Mu, who pretended not to see. Ban Gongcuo mumbled, "A stray blow, it must have been a stray blow..."

He hesitated, then said, "Sect Master Shen, is there any dragon saliva left? Spare me a little—I'm wounded too."

Shen Mu opened his Taotie Pouch and took out several bottles of dragon saliva. Ban Gongcuo hesitated, not daring to take them, and scratched his head. "Using Sect Master Shen's dragon saliva to heal myself—I suddenly feel a bit spooked. I'm none too sure whether smearing it in the wound will heal me or kill me on the spot with poison."

"Use it or don't." Shen Mu opened the dragon saliva and applied it to his wounds.

Ban Gongcuo looked toward the Dragon Qilin, who was rousing his qilin fire to melt the primordial weapons stuck in him so they ran off as molten iron. Catching sight of the shameless fellow coming his way, the Dragon Qilin's temper flared at once. He turned his rump toward him, showing several deep wounds, and snarled, "Is licking wounds so much fun? If you want me to lick yours, you lick mine first!"

Ban Gongcuo's face went black as charcoal. Cautiously he said, "I came to borrow a little dragon saliva, not to lick. Have pity on me..."

The Dragon Qilin's heart softened after all, and he could not bear it; he spat out a great mouthful of dragon saliva: "Lick it yourself!"

Ban Gongcuo scraped up some of the dragon saliva and smeared it on his wounds.

Each tended his own hurts. Shen Mu fetched more dragon saliva and applied it to the knife wounds on the Dragon Qilin's rump. They rested a while, yet their legs were still weak and trembling.

Out of the darkness came the sound of footsteps. Shen Mu struggled to his feet and roused his Danxiao Heaven Eye to look: a figure walked toward them through the dark, in a blood-red cloak.

Ban Gongcuo too swayed to his feet and opened the great gourd at his back; the Blood Waterfall flew up and hung in the air.

The Dragon Qilin clambered up, but his four limbs were too weak to hold his bulk; deciding it was more comfortable to sit, he sat and nursed his true fire.

Shen Mu's hands hung at his sides; he could not lift the sword core, and could only flick his fingers lightly, and from the sword core flew the Carefree Sword, floating at his fingertip, tiny beyond measure.

The approaching figure was a youth with a long saber slung across his back. He did not come closer, but halted and studied the hundreds of corpses before him warily.

He stood in the darkness, yet the monsters in that darkness looked right through him. It seemed this dark held power only over the people of this world; to a visitor from beyond the heavens like him it posed no threat at all.

"To wipe out a scout troop of my Heavenly Court's Lingxiu Army—you are quite something!"

The youth with the long saber shook out his cloak, which was soaked in fresh blood, and met Shen Mu's eyes across the darkness. In a low voice he said, "I am Luo Wushuang of the Lingxiu Army. Dare you give your name, sir?"

Ban Gongcuo laughed with a sneer. "Luo Wushuang? The Lingxiu Army? Never heard of them. Boy, you've got some skill—come up and die!"

The saber-bearing youth said calmly, "I admire you all. With nothing but two men and a pig, you killed so many masters. Killing them proves your skill is no small thing—but they were only scouts. The Lingxiu Army is raised from the finest and most gifted of the Heavenly Court's rising generation; it is not to be compared with such scouts. That bumpkins of Shanghuang should show such ability is worthy of respect, and so I asked your names, that you might leave a name behind when you die. Since you will not have it, then..."

He drew his saber without hesitation and brought it down upright into the wind. A single arc of saber light, like a bolt of white silk, fell with the wind, and then one became two, two became four, four became eight, eight became sixteen, splitting again and again—until, by the time it reached Shen Mu and the others, it had become a sky-blotting flood of saber light.

Ban Gongcuo roared and suddenly clasped his hands; the Blood Waterfall took the form of a blood Buddha that rose to meet the saber light, and was shattered within it the next instant. Yet the Buddha's impact left the saber light unsteady for the space of a breath.

Ban Gongcuo dropped to the ground, gasping, his mana spent.

Shen Mu flicked up a finger; the Carefree Sword shrieked out, ting-ting-ting piercing the net of saber light, and in an instant reached the youth's side.

He spent his last strength in sword strokes and could no longer defend himself. The Dragon Qilin bellowed in fury; the dragon scales on his body flew off all together, and each great scale became a shield among thousands blocking the way before Shen Mu.

The youth's movements were unfathomable, dodging the sword light, and he barred with his saber. His saber art was godlike in its mastery, with a grandeur all its own.

Shen Mu wielded his sword with the last of his strength and vital essence. The eighteen forms of his sword art shifted beyond prediction; when the final form was spent, the youth Luo Wushuang gave a stifled groan—the right arm that held his saber had been sheared off.

He raised a hand, caught the severed arm, and drew back, in an instant a li or so away.

"Who are you? Give your name!" he cried sharply.

Shen Mu reckoned his vital essence was nearly spent and that he could hardly cross a li to strike again, so he recalled his sword. The Carefree Sword circled him briskly, making him seem to have strength to spare.

"Shen Mu, Sect Master of the Heavenly Sage Sect."

Shen Mu smiled and said unhurriedly, "And the one beside me is the Great Venerable of Loulan's Golden Palace."

Ban Gongcuo's expression shifted slightly.