Chapter Twelve: The Grace of That Sword Strike
Page (1/3)
Shi Danda fell silent and died just like that.
At the sight of this sword strike, countless people felt their bodies grow even colder. Only “Great Songyang Hand” Fei Bin was trembling with fury. He roared, “Ren Yi, the Wudang Saintly Hand! You are outrageously bold—and presumptuous!”
The moment he finished speaking, the Songshan disciples at the four gates drew their swords one after another.
Seeing this, Taoist Tianmen, whose disciple’s life had been saved by Ren Yi and who had once received his assistance, could bear it no longer. He stepped forward and said, “Junior Brother Fei, wait. What exactly is going on?”
Abbess Dingyi interrupted as well. “Indeed. This old nun does not know the circumstances either. Junior Brother Fei, please explain.”
Fei Bin said nothing. His eyes remained fixed upon the young man with the white-streaked hair.
Qu Feiyan, standing beside Ren Yi, answered in his place. “They deserved to die. Those Songshan dogs wanted to take Grandfather Liu’s wife hostage, along with Sister Liu and her two brothers.”
Everyone’s eyes turned toward Fei Bin.
He no longer kept silent and said, “Abbess Dingyi, you are a member of the Buddhist clergy, and naturally you do not understand the sinister schemes of others. Our Songshan Sect has undertaken this desperate measure solely for the sake of our fellow martial artists. Think carefully, everyone. Third Master Liu of the Hengshan Sect enjoys a splendid reputation throughout the martial world and is a hero among heroes. Why would he willingly become a lackey of the imperial court? And Third Master Liu possesses wealth beyond measure—surely he has no need to covet riches.”
As soon as these words were spoken, realization dawned upon the assembled heroes, followed immediately by fresh doubts.
Abbess Dingyi knitted her brows. Tianmen and Songmen exchanged glances with one another, neither knowing what would be best to say.
Fei Bin looked toward Liu Zhengfeng and said coldly, “Alliance Leader Zuo has ordered us to ascertain whether Senior Brother Liu has secretly colluded with the Demon Cult… whether he has laid some conspiracy against the Five Mountains Sword Sect and our fellow martial artists.”
The moment those words were uttered, a clamor erupted.
Liu Zhengfeng said solemnly, “In all my life, I have never even met the Demon Cult’s leader. How could I have colluded with him? And what conspiracy are you talking about?”
Fei Bin cut him off. “There is a Guardian Elder in the Demon Cult named Qu Yang. Senior Brother Liu, dare you say that you do not know him?”
Liu Zhengfeng had still worn a grave expression, but upon hearing the name Qu Yang, his face changed at once. His lips tightened, and he gave no further reply.
In an instant, every gaze fell upon him. Yet Liu Zhengfeng remained silent, even closing his eyes.
“Everyone can see for yourselves!” Fei Bin sneered. “Liu Zhengfeng remains silent, clearly intending to resist. We have no choice but to escort him before Alliance Leader Zuo so that the matter may be investigated thoroughly. This young hero from Wudang, Ren, is also under suspicion. He has killed more than a dozen disciples of our sect. The Songshan Sect will not let this matter rest.”
A sudden gust of wind swept past.
From the rooftops, the outer grounds, the corners of the hall, the courtyard, and all directions around them, several dozen figures suddenly descended, surrounding the two men.
The newcomers all wore yellow garments suited for combat. Two men stood at the head of the forces on the eastern and western sides.
One was a burly, heavyset man. He was Ding Mian, the second senior disciple of the Songshan Sect’s leader, known as “Pagoda-Bearing Hand.” The other was extraordinarily tall and thin: Lu Bai, the “Immortal Crane Hand.”
The two men cupped their hands toward the three sects of Huashan, Hengshan, and Taishan, then drew their long swords.
The crowd recoiled in alarm. Only Abbess Dingyi, Tianmen, and Songmen remained unmoving.
Suddenly, light footsteps approached. A scholar in blue robes strolled out, dressed in a loose gown with a sash at his waist, a folding fan in his right hand. He looked utterly carefree, yet his expression was solemn.
“Brother Liu, if you truly have no acquaintance with Qu Yang, you need only say so. Why remain silent?”
“Many thanks, Sect Leader Yue. However…” Liu Zhengfeng paused, then sighed. “When I first befriended Brother Qu, I already knew this day would come.”
At these words, the great hall instantly erupted into noisy discussion. Everyone had assumed he would deny everything, yet he had confessed so frankly. How had he dared to say it aloud?
“Brother Qu and I took to each other at first sight. Our friendship was solely for the study of music. We did not concern ourselves with orthodox or heterodox paths, nor did we speak of conflicts in the martial world. Through music, the two of us became kindred spirits.”
Ding Mian barked, “So you finally admit it!”
A bleak smile appeared upon Liu Zhengfeng’s face. He was about to continue when someone interrupted him.
“Enough. You have droned on long enough.”
The speaker was Ren Yi. Everyone could see the impatience on his face.
Page (1/3)
Page (2/3)
Ding Mian shouted, “Ren Yi of Wudang! I never imagined that you, too, would collude with the Demon Cult.”
Ren Yi replied, “Several days ago, I left Wudang.”
Taoist Songmen hurriedly said, “Young Hero Ren, how can you speak such nonsense? You are a disciple of Wudang…”
Ren Yi cut him off. “You do not understand!”
“Do not understand?!”
Ren Yi nodded and slowly said, “Since childhood, I have loved freedom and ease, without restraint. Yet I entered Wudang at the age of five. For the sake of my sect, I entered the martial world at twelve, and for six years I suppressed much of my true nature.”
Taoist Songmen frowned. “What does that have to do with your nature?”
Ren Yi’s voice turned distant. “I was named Ren Yi. Naturally, I must ‘do as I please and follow my heart.’”
Lu Bai said coldly, “Words are useless. You have willingly cast yourself into depravity and joined the Demon Cult. How could we tolerate you today?”
Ren Yi smiled. “You say I have joined the Demon Cult? Then let me be said to have joined the Demon Cult. I did not come here to reason with any of you. I came only to kill.”
Lu Bai, Ding Mian, Fei Bin, and the many Songshan disciples were stunned. The assembled heroes were shaken and frightened, unconsciously retreating a step. Many of them remembered what Ren Yi had said to Yu Canghai that day:
“If I choose to reason with you, then you should listen carefully. Whether you are convinced or not, you must endure it. Likewise, if I draw my sword, I will never argue or reason with anyone…”
Could it be that he intended to—
The ordinary-looking iron sword suddenly rose.
Ren Yi vanished as if by magic.
After a flash of sword-light, the head of a Songshan disciple soared into the sky…
“Impudent!”
Lu Bai, Ding Mian, and Fei Bin attacked at once. The three of them closed in on Ren Yi almost simultaneously.
Three figures crisscrossed through the air, making it impossible to distinguish one from another. The wind shrieked sharply. One sword raised a spray of sword-flowers and struck toward Ren Yi seven times in succession.
Another sword transformed into a raging gale that swept across the ground toward his knees.
The two attacks were fierce yet agile. Their techniques were unmatched in ferocity, and their coordination was superb. They were fellow disciples who often trained together; when they joined forces, their hearts and intentions moved as one.
The third sword lagged behind by a fraction. Its light stretched forth like a rainbow, spreading from the tip and descending through the air until it enveloped Ren Yi completely.
Ren Yi twisted his body. His figure was supple and graceful, and with a single retreat he slipped free of the three-way assault. The subtlety of his footwork and the strangeness of his movement seemed to combine the unfathomable mysteries of ghosts and spirits with the ingenuity of heaven itself.
The expressions of the three men changed. They swung their swords again.
The remaining Songshan disciples reacted as well. In an instant, sword-light filled the heavens.
The Thirteen Shocking-Heaven Forms had been improved by Ren Yi day after day, every technique refined without pause. Each sword strike now contained one fewer flaw and moved one step faster. At this moment, they were simply impossible to withstand.
Seven Songshan disciples intercepted him.
A flash of sword-light—
A single stroke severed three heads!
The remaining four men stood stunned and terrified. But soon, sword-light appeared once more in their eyes. It froze their bodies with dread, while the iron sword’s chill pierced their flesh and bones.
The sword’s edge swept lightly across.
Four throats were opened by wounds that would never close.
Page (2/3)
Page (3/3)
When Lu Bai, Ding Mian, and Fei Bin attacked him from three sides, Ren Yi leapt into the crowd.
The three men pursued him closely.
Speed could be a form of stimulation—or a source of pleasure, an exhilarating thrill. A swift horse, a fast boat, a quick sword, a flashing blade: all could grant a person an indescribable delight.
Ren Yi was swift in body and swift with his sword. His sword-intent was swifter than either man or blade. His will preceded the sword, and the sword followed wherever he went. Lu Bai, Ding Mian, and Fei Bin could not kill him; they could not even brush the corner of his clothing.
They were close enough to see him, yet a hair’s breadth became a thousand miles.
More corpses now lay upon the ground. Eleven Songshan disciples remained.
The heroes in the great hall watched in a blur, each holding his breath, every eye fixed upon the battle. Ren Yi’s iron sword flickered and drifted, its edge piercing into the midst of the sword-light.
In the space of an instant, five throats burst into sprays of blood. Five men fell.
The three leaders had realized that something was wrong. They had almost witnessed with their own eyes how Ren Yi killed, and retreat had begun to stir within them.
Fei Bin moved first. Terrified, he no longer dared pursue that seemingly insubstantial figure. He was the first to halt and retreat—and also the first to be overtaken by the sword-light.
The sword struck as swiftly as sparks from flint. Fei Bin recognized its terror. Forcing down the fear in his heart, he poured every ounce of his power into a backward thrust, his blade tearing through the air—
At last, Lu Bai and Ding Mian found their opening. One brought his broad sword crashing toward Ren Yi’s back, while the other swept his blade horizontally toward Ren Yi’s neck.
The three men unleashed their killing techniques together. Everyone else believed the tide had turned and that Ren Yi would die beneath their combined assault.
How could ordinary people know the exquisite mysteries of the Carefree Will Art? With the Wind-Pitying Technique, he could shift and evade within that tiny fraction of an instant.
Yet Ren Yi did not dodge.
He did not retreat.
A glimmer of light shone in his eyes.
Without anyone realizing it, all thirteen forms of the Thirteen Shocking-Heaven Forms surged into his mind. One sword faster than the next, the thirteen strokes revolved and collided within his thoughts. They were dissected, then slowly fused together…
The iron sword in his hand swung out almost unconsciously.
A streak of startling sword-light suddenly appeared. It wound through the void like a celestial artisan’s flawless carving, leaving behind a sword-mark of sublime perfection, condensed and refusing to disperse.
It was dazzling and soul-shaking. The radiance of that instant was so beautiful that it stirred—and shattered—the heart.
The three men’s figures froze.
Then Lu Bai was forced back.
Ding Mian was forced back.
Fei Bin was forced back.
All three were driven ten paces away.
What had happened?
In the deathly silence, blood suddenly erupted.
Crimson blood burst from their throats. Lu Bai dropped to his knees. Ding Mian collapsed. Fei Bin remained standing, yet his head had already fallen to the ground.
Was it that sword strike?
The one just now?
With a single sword, a single technique, Lu Bai, Ding Mian, and Fei Bin had all died.
A cool breeze swept past, carrying a chill with it. The cold did not come from the wind, but from the hearts of the onlookers. Countless people shuddered.
Ren Yi withdrew his sword and looked at the three men. There was a trace of pleasure between his brows, along with a hint of dissatisfaction.
He was impossible to understand.
He shook his head.
Page (3/3)