Chapter 498 — The Late Emperor's Remnant

Shen Mu's plan was settled.

He had come a hundred li away, with Chest and Long Qilin following close behind him. A hundred li was far enough; even if the trap's power proved immense, it could hardly threaten them from such a distance.

Shen Mu scooped up a handful of yellow sand and blew it gently from his palm, and where the sand fell it became a tiny figure three inches tall. The little "Dune Giant" opened its mouth and roared, a monstrous thing to behold; the yellow sand spun beneath its feet as the hill-sized giant charged, reeking of murder, toward the cliff a hundred li away.

Long Qilin was beside himself with anticipation. After a while the fat fellow's eagerness ebbed a little, but he still stared fixedly into the distance, and yet at the cliff nothing happened at all.

Shen Mu sprang up onto his head to look far out at the Dune Giant, which had just crested a dune and was laboring on toward the cliff. Long Qilin yawned, rallied himself, and said, "Sect Master, almost there?

" Shen Mu reckoned it over. "Another hour, give or take, and it will be. " Long Qilin clambered down and muttered, "I'll nap a while.

Wake me when it gets there.

" A little under an hour later, Shen Mu kicked the great hulk awake.

Long Qilin scrambled to his feet, excited.

"Is it there? " "Another quarter of an incense stick and it will be!

" Shen Mu laughed.

"Let us get up into the air first.

If anything goes wrong, we can make our escape. " Chest stretched out its legs and climbed onto Long Qilin's back, and Long Qilin hastily trod the fiery clouds and soared aloft. Seen from afar, a hundred li off, a tiny speck could just be made out, its mouth wide in a roar as it hurried toward the stone stele; even Long Qilin, whose eyesight was keen, could scarcely make it out clearly. Shen Mu, though, saw it perfectly.

The little Dune Giant roared and roared for a long while and at last arrived beneath the stele, brimming with menace. Then the little Dune Giant set to digging at the sand with all its might, roaring as it dug.

Shen Mu was speechless.

Long Qilin opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again and waited quietly, thinking, "If I'm tactless enough to bring this up, I likely won't get dinner tomorrow. " After a moment the little Dune Giant had dug out a small pit, and the writing beneath the stele was revealed at last. Before Shen Mu could make out what it said, the sand in the pit suddenly churned without number, and streaks of yellow sand shot skyward like flying rainbows, swallowing the tiny Dune Giant whole!

Nor was the little Dune Giant alone in being swallowed—for tens of li around, the whole expanse became a terrifying field of slaughter. The yellow sand boiled like a great earthen-yellow cauldron overturned upon the desert, and from within that earthen-yellow sphere came the ringing of blades, again and again! Long Qilin's fur and scales stood on end, bristling straight up, and even Shen Mu could not help but shudder with cold dread. This trap was more terrible than he had imagined.

Thank goodness he had always been cautious, and had proposed triggering it a hundred li away. Within that earthen-yellow cauldron, blade-light flew up and down, left and right, cutting, chopping, hewing, slicing, shifting through every manner of change, all but filling every corner of the tens of li around! "This blade art.

.

. " Shen Mu was briefly startled, and a bad feeling came over him.

This blade art—he had seen it before! Not in Jingping, though, but last night—the last night of thirty or forty thousand years ago—in that youth of the Heavenly Court's Lingxiu Army named Luo Wushuang!

The blade art Luo Wushuang had wielded bore a striking resemblance to the blade-light in that field of slaughter!

"The one-armed youth is still alive?

The Great Venerable said the boy would not live long and told me not to worry. .

.

" Shen Mu laughed, but the laugh stiffened on his face, and before long his expression had gone ashen.

The divine-ability trap Luo Wushuang had laid here was powerful—unbelievably powerful.

Even Xing An might not possess such magnificent dharma power. Which meant Luo Wushuang had not only survived but flourished; he looked mighty, and in all likelihood had already become a god!

He still nursed his grudge over the severed arm. He must have revisited the old place after attaining godhood, found this cliff, seen Shen Mu's handwriting on the rock face, and so left behind a stone stele.

If Shen Mu ever came here, he would surely want to know what was written beneath the stele—and then he would be caught! "I truly should not have revealed my name.

I ought to have made one up at the time.

. . Still, at least we share the calamity.

Luo Wushuang is far too petty—the Great Venerable had a leg cut off by me, the same leg, twice, and he never said a word. " The divine ability Luo Wushuang left behind did not last long. Soon the trap's power dispersed, and the yellow sand in the sky was cut into dust, drifting and swirling, scattered on every side by the wind.

Shen Mu narrowed his eyes, secretly alarmed.

Last night he had crossed paths with Luo Wushuang, and though the man's blade art was exquisitely refined, it was still considerably inferior to his own. Luo Wushuang's was a Fission Blade Art: one split into two, two into four, four into eight, splitting without end.

Split ten times, and it became one thousand and twenty-four blade-lights; split fourteen times, and it numbered more than sixteen thousand. Yet this blade art had one great flaw: Luo Wushuang's dharma power was fixed. The more times it split, the more each blade-light's force diminished; split too many times, and the attack lacked power.

Against other masters he could still reign supreme, but against a being like Shen Mu, master of both the sword and the blade, he could hardly hope to gain the upper hand. Thus, even with his dharma power all but spent and his body covered in wounds, Shen Mu had been able to sever one of his arms. This time, however, Shen Mu saw that Luo Wushuang's blade art had advanced to a terrifying degree.

For tens of li around, yellow sand filled the sky, but the true killing intent lay in the blade-light pervading that sand. It seemed as though blade-light was everywhere in the sand for tens of li, still within the Fission Blade Art—and yet in truth there was only one blade-light.

The blade-light struck the sand dust and was refracted, rebounding; because it moved so fast, it produced the strange spectacle of blade-light everywhere—and yet Luo Wushuang had struck only once! Shen Mu could picture it.

After attaining godhood, Luo Wushuang had come here, seen the writing Shen Mu left on the rock face, recognized Shen Mu's sword art in it, and so set up the stele.

He had stood before the stele, driven a single blade-stroke into the yellow sand, and hidden his blade intent and his divine ability within that sand—beneath the stele!

After untold ages, Shen Mu had come to this place, stirred his blade intent and his divine ability, and set the divine ability off! "His blade art has reached the Dao realm.

" Shen Mu's eye twitched at the corner. He stepped into the swirling dust and, braving the choking sand, walked toward the cliff.

Luo Wushuang's blade art had already reached the Dao realm—like Jingping's Imperial Preceptor, a fearsome being of the Dao realm! To enter the Dao through the blade: this man's understanding of the blade path was likely no weaker than the Butcher's, and what was more terrible, his cultivation was deep and mighty, likely far above the Butcher's!

Shen Mu paused, startled. The cliff ahead still stood, his writing on the rock face still there; the cliff had suffered not the slightest damage, as though Luo Wushuang's divine ability had deliberately avoided it.

He did not dwell on it, and looked toward the stele.

The stele was still there as well, without so much as a hair's damage.

The writing beneath it was revealed too.