Chapter 381: Bo Tianqu

The colorful mask gazed at Pei Ye. The other hand of the figure groped on the ground for a moment before it finally gripped the blood-slicked hilt of the blade again. A hoarse voice spoke: "I think he didn't tell you anything—"

He suddenly lowered his head and coughed up some blood clots from his throat.

But the youth at the doorway didn't listen to a word he said. He struck out with a fierce gesture, like a great cloud exploding, and a whistling sound that shook the entire stone chamber slammed into everyone's eardrums!

A brilliant, blinding white swept through the entire space. Qu Zhu's coughing was cut short. He managed to raise his blade to block, but the Qi he condensed shattered instantly upon contact, and the black robes were sent flying like paper scraps from the edge of the white mist.

Before he could hit the stone wall, he pressed his hand against it, steadying his figure amidst the dense web of cracks.

The black robes were still billowing. The eerie, blood-stained mask turned sharply, locking onto the youth at the doorway. The next moment, as if time had been excised, the mask was suddenly pressed right in front of Pei Ye.

Such speed completely exceeded the limits of 【Quail Head】, but although the youth's reaction was a beat slow, the face he turned toward the enemy remained cold and unyielding.

The next moment, the Glazed Sword, wrapped in cloud Qi, swept past from the side, engulfing both the mask and the blade.

This place was technically beyond the "ten-mile" agreement, but the state of the person before him was clearly that of a spent force.

With the tacit understanding and tempering between the youth and the divine sword, where the eye saw and the mind moved, the blade arrived instantly. They had a distance they had agreed upon, and this combination, which seemed to have a weak link, had never actually been exposed.

This stone chamber happened to be within that distance.

Thus, Pei Ye stood unmoving at the only exit, letting the lethal blade sweep past his face by a hair's breadth.

Qu Zhu turned his blade to parry the sword, but it collapsed instantly once more. Blood sprayed into the air, and he twisted his body to dodge under the Glazed Sword. The Glazed Sword followed like a shadow, its sharp cloud Qi carving deep fissures into the stone wall.

The brilliant white filled the entire space, and the tattered black robes dodged the powerful attacks time and again, like a crow avoiding a crane.

Pei Ye focused his entire mind on this flickering shadow, his thoughts shifting rapidly. Seeing the enemy reveal flaws that were hard to conceal even amidst such powerful and saturated attacks, the blood-stained anger in his heart began to surge toward his skull.

After days of tense suppression, he had finally caught up to this figure again, yet the elder had used his life to keep him here. His desire could no longer be suppressed; the youth only wanted to see these black robes shredded to pieces, to see him splattered in blood, his limbs cruelly scattered!

Just then, the Black Cat suddenly narrowed its eyes and pressed onto his shoulder. Pei Ye followed its mental cue and looked over, only to see some faint fluorescent lights rising slowly from the position where the black robes had just been sitting amidst the full-room cloud Qi.

Pei Ye's pupils shrank. He looked coldly at the ghost in the air and took a large step forward.

A single step didn't mean much, but for a battle already fought at the edge of a blade, the narrow space had shrunk even further. The space Qu Zhu had to maneuver in had shortened by another fraction, while at the same time, the youth's throat was a fraction closer to the blade's edge.

He was compressing this battlefield.

As soon as that step landed, the flickering, ghostly movement of the black robes approached his face. The sharp claws of a demon owl or ghost bat would not have needed a second strike to tear open the chest and abdomen of this fragile young bird. Yet, the youth stared at him fixedly, took another step forward, and drew his sword with a metallic clang.

The world suddenly turned dim. Sharp snow fell from the sky, and a chill grew deep within his lungs. Qu Zhu gasped and closed his eyes to banish this cold, oppressive intent, but when he opened them again, the snowflakes in his vision had transformed into equally sharp, fragmented clouds. The Glazed Sword was already at his side.

The mask turned sharply. Qu Zhu ignored the sword and continued to slash his blade horizontally toward the youth. However, the youth was not threatened at all; he did not let the Glazed Sword turn back. He unleashed a sword technique of extreme folding and twisting, and the snow sword turned into 【Drifting Returning Wind】.

Such a technique clearly could not evade a Mystic Gate expert. In the vast Profound Qi, the youth, transformed into a willow leaf, was almost torn apart by the gale. Even though he had struck first, the edge of the Profound Qi still sent him flying, slamming him heavily against the stone wall.

But at the same time, the immense cloud Qi carried by the Glazed Sword swept Qu Zhu away entirely. Qu Zhu's figure lost control, crashing several feet across the ground before he could stabilize himself by driving his blade into the stone.

When the youth stopped putting himself in a position of absolute safety, the black robes' situation became precarious. The fluorescent lights on the other side were still rising, like silver pouring onto the ground. Perhaps because the distance was not far, their accumulation was faster than Pei Ye had imagined, but at this moment, the Black Cat's Chi Fire had already invaded them, and those fluorescent lights seemed to freeze in mid-air.

The Glazed Sword swept past again with immense momentum. Qu Zhu did not have time to react much this time; his blade was still fixed behind him, and he could only block with his left arm. The Glazed Sword sliced a huge gap in his waist, and blood poured out in large quantities.

Pei Ye struck forward with his sword, biting his teeth and putting all his remaining two snow sword techniques onto this broken body—

Qu Zhu woke from the trance of the intent-sword, and the eerie, blood-stained mask locked onto the angry, gritting youth before him. The two were already too close; it was far beyond the distance between him and the divine sword behind him.

Qu Zhu did not turn around. He only switched the hilt from his right hand to his left. The next moment, a blade light emerged from behind his back, slashing down like a cold moon. Even if it wasn't his full strength, this was still a strike from a Mystic Gate expert!

Like the previous clash, the blade light and the sword light intersected, and the two stared at each other coldly, making a silent decision not to retreat. They both abandoned their moves at a subtle node, but after Qu Zhu turned his blade, his arm suddenly tightened.

A sword technique of profound intent, sufficient to be ranked in the top five of Kongtong in terms of refinement. As this sword turned to his front, it happened to connect with the silent, tricky sword strike from Wu Dong.

Qu Zhu's body was as agile as a rising dragon. He drew his blade, lifted his body, and the tattered black robes flew like an owl. He leaned backward, and amidst the sound of cracking bones, a leg slammed heavily into the youth's abdomen.

The long blade fell from his hand.

Yet at this moment, Qu Zhu suddenly threw away the sheathed sword in his hand without a care.

But... that was his left arm.

Wu Dong's expression did not change in the slightest.

His gray eyes remained cold and indifferent. He simply took a light breath and struck forward with his sword again.

The two-man battlefield erupted into decisive bloodshed.

There were no more probes or entanglements. They viewed the enemy as themselves; there was no need to expect the other to fall into a trap, let alone imagine the other would make a mistake. Both were equally clear about every detail and the situation of the fight. Two gray, disheveled heads of hair scattered in the blood beads, and the brilliant sword shadows shattered.

Thus, there were no ups and downs or surprises. In the clean and decisive exchange of moves, the superiority and inferiority became inevitably apparent.

Wu Dong's body was not strong enough. He had suffered heavier injuries before, and in the clash of blade and sword techniques themselves, the advantage created by 【Swallowing the Sea】 could not be bridged.

Thus, at a certain moment, the sword fight entered a cruel close-quarters struggle.

It was hard to imagine two Mystic Gate masters fighting such a duel, but they were indeed colliding with elbows, legs, and blades. Every white blade swung in the gaps was dangerous enough.

"You lost." The elder with the mask spoke hoarsely, blood spilling from his throat.

Wu Dong had no mask, but this face, which was always cold, was no different from a mask. He was silent for a moment, lowered his eyes, and a dangerous sword light suddenly rose from his waist, like a flash of a bright mirror.

Such a strike would have been enough to take the life of nine out of ten Mystic Gate experts in Shaolong, but here it was just another fresh, ordinary move. Qu Zhu's blade was like a flowing shadow, lightly and skillfully sticking to the sword edge.

Another intersection of two blades. Such mutually destructive wounds were not something either would trade. They stopped their swords and dodged again, brewing their next attack.

But this time, as Qu Zhu turned his sword halfway, his body suddenly turned cold.

Qu Zhu had abandoned his sword entirely, but Wu Dong had only abandoned half of his. He gave up on dodging this blade completely, sticking his waist and abdomen against the blade, thereby earning a chance to strike again.

Qu Zhu slashed upward with his blade to gouge him, taking all the advantages he could in the new change, and then returned the blade from the terrible crack in Wu Dong's waist and abdomen, just in time to face this sword strike.

And what Wu Dong brought him was a stunning, lethal sword strike.

Fast among the fast, shadow among shadows, like lightning appearing in thick, dark clouds.

This strike was destined to have no name; it was not enough to appear in the Mystic Gate realm, and Wu Dong had not used it for more than ten years.

But it was indeed the sword technique the elder had tempered with blood and life in the darkest side of the Jianghu for more than ten years. Those who had seen it called it the "Yama Sword."

It was perfect for close-quarters killing.

Qu Zhu's throat tightened like a stiff board. He definitely could not block this sword now.

He only had time to lift the hilt to block horizontally at his throat, and then leaned back as much as possible to press the blade, letting the sword edge pass obliquely through the bone gaps of his upper body, rather than passing through his throat, heart, or lungs...

But he didn't dodge.

The blood-stained mask leaned forward suddenly, like a ghost, and the blade he held under his chin did not press down.

It turned through a profound arc.

Qu Zhu let this sword pass through, letting Wu Dong's sword pierce his right chest, pinning him to the stone wall. The light blade that drifted past sliced off Wu Dong's entire sword-wielding arm.

Naturally, the winner had been decided. In the spiritual body, the heart and lungs were not enough to be fatal, and without an arm or a sword, there was no way to fight.

Actually, when Qu Zhu spoke, Wu Dong's strike itself was a response.

Four eyes were equally clear; neither could hide their state. If it weren't for acknowledging this, why would the elder stir up waves on flat ground and use such an irredeemable heavy injury to trade for a single strike?

It was just because he had to strike.

This final strike was indeed brilliant and dangerous, but Qu Zhu would never make a mistake in the face of danger.

However, Qu Zhu looked at Wu Dong's calm movements, and the expression under the blood-stained mask seemed to show stiffness for the first time.

The elder seemed to want to give this arm to him.

His gray eyes looked at him. The moment he pinned him to the stone wall, the elder had already leaned backward. He didn't even let go of the sword hilt, because he clearly knew that the next moment he would say goodbye to his shoulder and this sword.

The next moment, Qu Zhu removed his shoulder.

And Wu Dong's other empty hand had already been raised, three fingers pinched together, two fingers held flat.

That was, 【Pulling Silk】.

From the moment he imitated the characteristics of the sword in the 【Jade Tiger】 replica, the weapon that could be moved in this stone chamber was not two, but three.

It could come out at any time, but only at this moment, when the situation was truly pressed to the end, when the tattered, blood-stained black robes were pinned to the stone wall, and the long blade had no time to return, this sword was truly lethal.

Wu Dong leaned backward, and the light and dark intersecting sword blade swept forward. Two identical swords appeared in the formation at the same time. The repulsive force of the 【Lotus Heart Decisive Sword Formation】 poured down instantly. The long sword pinned to the stone wall made a sound of unbearable burden. If the two swords were to break, it definitely wouldn't be the 【Jade Tiger】—obviously, as long as it was stimulated by another forced mobilization, the swords in the room would break instantly.

This was naturally a desperate situation. This gap was very narrow, but it clearly existed. Perhaps Qu Zhu could rise from the wall the next moment, but at this instant, he was a completely slaughtered lamb. The Profound Qi was gone, the spiritual body was useless, and the long blade was out of reach. Only his throat was so clearly and vulnerably exposed.

The 【Jade Tiger】's dim blade floated in the center of his vision.

It was at this moment that Qu Zhu finally clearly knew what the elder had come here for. After the Jade Tiger, his gray hair was disheveled, his cheeks were stained with blood, and his gray eyes stared straight at the eyes under the mask. The next moment, the sword edge was about to cut off one of their throats, but time seemed to be quiet at this moment.

"You lost." The elder said hoarsely.

————

Behind the "Hanging Curtain," amidst the misty peaks.

Pei Ye had been away from the Scripture Library for nearly an hour. He traveled through the forests and mountains without stopping. The sound of the waterfall finally gradually faded away. Standing on the peak and looking east, he was attracted by a deep valley cliff.

High, steep, hidden, sitting south and facing north, layers of peaks and green trees, cliffs and trees covering it.

It didn't look like a place where anyone would live for a long time, so Pei Ye leaped down without hesitation.

In an instant, he fell into the cliff. Autumn silence and deep cold enveloped him. Standing in this valley, looking back, he could no longer see the shadows of the five peaks, and it was imaginable that the people of the five peaks could definitely not see this cliff valley.

Pei Ye held the sword hilt and went inside and downward through the trees and rocks. However, there was only silence and endless turns and cliff trees. Finally, just as Pei Ye began to suspect that he had found the wrong place again, the corner of a simple and ancient roof emerged from behind the trees.

A huge cliff terrace, not knowing whether it was naturally formed or carved by man, protruded from the cliff. There was no way to descend from above, and no way to climb from below. It was buried by layers of cliff trees. If one were not looking for it intentionally, no one would have thought that such a human realm was hidden here.

Pei Ye stood on the treetop. This was a small courtyard built against the cliff, sitting quietly in the morning sun, even with a bit of peace.

But Pei Ye only felt a chill. On the night seven years ago when the yin wind roared, it was in this courtyard that the two of them took the fresh souls stripped from the youth, offered them to those soulless demon swords, and finalized the evil plot that would poison the Xilong and Shaolong roads thereafter.

Now he looked at this courtyard, and there was no one coming in or out, as if it were completely vacant.

"Go and see." Pei Ye couldn't hold back and leaped down with his sword. The Black Cat intended to observe more, but the words "fast and dense" had already been said by the youth.

The two landed in front of the door, and what they saw was just an ordinary courtyard. The courtyard walls and doors were old and damaged, looking like they had been there for more than ten years.

He pushed the door and entered, and the Black Cat's gaze fell on the tables and chairs in the courtyard for a moment before moving away to guard the surroundings.

Pei Ye stepped forward and brushed his hand over them.

"It rained two days ago, and there are no mud marks on the sides, so it has been cleaned recently." He said, "But it doesn't look like anyone has lived here for a long time."

The surfaces of the tables and chairs were very clean, but the corners lacked the roundness that comes from long-term use. Pei Ye was used to old tables and chairs, and he knew how many traces an object would produce under human use.

That meant that the owner of this courtyard had only just returned a few days ago.

Since when? After leaving Bowang?

Standing in the courtyard, he could already feel the emptiness in the house. Pei Ye pushed the door and entered the inner hall again. Sure enough, it was empty. It was still a display of everything a human residence should have, looking neither new nor old. The two didn't find anything unusual, and the room was indeed quiet.

It was just that in his subtle intuition, the man and the cat both tensed their bodies—all the details showed that this was not the oppressive silence of a place that had been empty for a long time, but rather like an emptiness left behind after something had broken through.

It wasn't until he lifted the curtain and stepped into the inner hall that the two held their breath at the same time.

A huge trap hole appeared before them, breaking through the wall of the house and heading straight into the mountain wall, deep and unfathomable.