Chapter 109 — Dark Plumes and Crimson Crests

The Dragon-Driving Sect's disciples had in fact long since taken up position ahead of them, waiting to sweep up whatever fish had slipped the net!

Snakes came surging over hill and field at the sound of the flute, a sight to make the blood run cold. Wei Yong, his face ashen, muttered, "What is the capital playing at? Every demon and monster under heaven turned loose—and where have the capital's guards gone?"

Just then a sudden rumbling came from the direction of the capital. Shen Mu's heart stirred; he snatched up Snow Fox and tucked her into the bundle on his back, and said in a low voice, "Back away!"

Wei Yong fell back in haste. They had barely withdrawn a hundred zhang when the snake horde abruptly fell into turmoil, as though seized by a terrible fright, and the maddened serpents came surging toward them. Nor was it the snakes alone: the Dragon-Driving Sect's disciples were in a panic too, leaping onto the serpents' heads one after another, and the great snakes swam swift as flight, hurtling straight at Shen Mu and his companion!

"Back to back!"

Shen Mu barked the words. Wei Yong understood at once and set his back to Shen Mu's. He pulled the sword case from his shoulders and thumped it down hard on the ground, brought his hands together, and with two fingers of each hand extended, formed the sword seal. The case opened; with a silvery jingle the flying swords rose one after another, linked nose to tail, their points turned down.

Then, with a single hum, the swords parted and ranged themselves in a ring about Shen Mu and himself, points outward, whirling at furious speed!

Shen Mu was astonished. This move of Wei Yong's was no art handed down by the academy; it was far more exquisite than the sword techniques cultivated by the academy's scholars. It must be a sword art passed down in his own family. Wei Yong had said the Wei family was one of Jiangling's great houses; plainly he had not been boasting.

The serpents came swarming. Shen Mu's primal energy erupted, and golden rings appeared before him and behind; from them shot bolts of sword light, stabbing at the onrushing snakes and the Dragon-Driving Sect disciples perched atop their heads. This was an art he had comprehended from the idol in the old temple of Crimson Dragon City—like a divine power, and yet not one; its force was far from weak. The great snakes that came at them, struck and wounded by that golden sword light, would veer aside and swim away; and the Dragon-Driving Sect disciples on the serpents' heads, harried by his sword light, had no leisure to strike back.

Yet these men and snakes seemed less bent on attacking them than on fleeing for their lives—only the serpents pouring in were too many. Even Shen Mu could not drive them all back. On they came like a tide, and in a moment they would drown the two of them!

Wei Yong shouted aloud. The flying swords spun furiously around the pair, slicing through the bodies of the serpents that surged in; lightning and sparks crackled and spat, great scales burst away from every cut, and some snakes were gashed open to the flesh—a pitiful sight.

The pressure on Wei Yong mounted sharply and he could scarcely hold. At once Shen Mu changed his technique: his palms crossed, and his primal energy ran surging like a mighty river, turned to rushing water, and battered the huge serpent bodies. Snow Fox, in his bundle, kept working her arts as well, raising a vast whirlwind that caught up the great snakes one by one.

The strain on the two men and the fox grew greater and greater; and just then the rumbling drew near. Great birds with black feathers and vermilion crests came racing through the mountain forest like the wind—birds like walking hills, their beaks several zhang long, striding through the woods as if through grass. Their talons crushed rock to powder; their beaks stabbed down, seized a serpent, and shook it wildly this way and that!

On the birds' backs stood five or six soldiers, quivers at their waists, longbows in hand, drawing and loosing again and again at the Dragon-Driving Sect disciples flung through the air. Each disciple thrown from a serpent's head was in the next instant shot into a pincushion. Their quivers hung at their waists, so they had no need to reach behind for arrows; a dip of the hand drew a shaft, nocked it, and loosed—and so they shot with extraordinary speed.

The flock of great birds charged headlong and scattered the snakes. Their huge claws came down and seized the serpents, talons sinking deep into their bodies, tearing the red-crested snakes open, skin and flesh alike.

The birds chased the snakes straight toward them, and Wei Yong said joyfully, "It's the archer cavalry of the capital guard!"

The birds soon came abreast of them, racing past; and several of the archers, catching sight of Shen Mu and Wei Yong, started in surprise and hastily hauled on the reins, making their black-feathered, vermilion-crested birds swing wide around them, crying out, "There are scholars alive ahead! Everyone take care—do not run down the scholars!"

Whish, whish, whish—banners, poles and all, were shot down from the birds' backs and planted before Shen Mu.

"Fine skill!"

Several soldiers on the birds' backs, seeing Shen Mu's palm arts and Wei Yong's swordplay, shouted their applause: "Any scholar who can live through a swarm-attack of the Dragon-Driving Sect's serpents has some skill about him, sure enough!"

The birds charging up from behind saw those banners and at once sheered off to either side, giving Shen Mu and the rest a wide berth.

After a while the birds and the snakes passed into the distance, and Shen Mu let out his breath. Behind him Wei Yong returned his flying swords to the case and dropped onto the ground, puffing and blowing. Shen Mu looked back and saw monstrous beasts battling in the mountain forest, a vast serpent like a dragon churning among the woods, a terrible sight. It must be Long Jiaonan, the young sect master of the Dragon-Driving Sect, having met the archer cavalry and fallen to fighting in earnest.

A moment later the capital's follow-up forces came killing in—this time the sword guards. Sword pellets rose into the air, blazing with light, and thousands upon thousands of flying swords rained down, leaving the Dragon-Driving Sect grievously dead and wounded. Long Jiaonan withdrew with his great serpent; countless smaller snakes swam over and onto that serpent's body, and the Dragon-Driving Sect's many disciples took to the air and likewise alighted upon it. The great serpent spat out a demon cloud and rose into the sky, riding that cloud away into the distance, the cloud thick with thunder and lightning. The sword guards gave chase, drawing farther and farther from Shen Mu and Wei Yong.

"Are there any scholars still alive?" a voice called loudly from the mountain forest.

"Yes—we just saw two scholars!"

"Only two scholars?"

The voice fell silent.

"Where did the ship sail from?"

"Jiangling Commandery, I think—the homeland of Imperial Preceptor Jingping..."

"Damnation! The Dragon-Driving Sect attacking the scholars' ship from Jiangling Commandery—plainly they meant to strike at Imperial Preceptor Jingping's prestige. And the fault is ours, for guarding so poorly... You, come with me. We'll go see those two scholars."

...

After a while several great birds came racing up before Shen Mu and the others, and a general in full armor leaped down from one of them. He looked at Shen Mu and Wei Yong and said, in a voice like a great bell, "You two scholars—do you know how many were aboard that ship?"

Shen Mu had not counted carefully. He hesitated: "Somewhere between three and five hundred."

The general's eye twitched. "Three to five hundred scholars..."

Wei Yong said hastily, "General, many of those scholars were adepts with the art of flight. I saw a great many fly off the ship—they should have survived."