Chapter 81

The girl reacted extremely quickly, raising the black box in her hand, aiming at the hawk and pressing the mechanism—whoosh! whoosh! whoosh! —the piercing whistles rang nonstop as over a hundred steel needles shot out in a volley; several needles struck the hawk, but not fatally, the hawk let out a tragic cry and still lunged desperately at the girl; the girl pressed the mechanism again, and another volley of steel needles shot out.

The hawk tried to dodge sideways to avoid the Violent Rain Pear Blossom Needle's barrage, but such exquisite design of the hidden weapon was hardly something it could evade; countless more steel needles struck its body, and the hawk let out a mournful cry before plummeting straight down.

The girl quickened her pace, and another black shadow burst through the rain and mist from behind, charging at her. By the time she realized, the hawk was already less than three feet away; in her haste she turned and raised the needle tube, firing the last volley of steel needles—though it managed to hit the hawk sneaking up from behind, it did not stop its advance; the hawk's sharp talons seized her shoulder, tearing a large piece of her clothing, the claws ripped through her tender flesh, leaving five shocking bloodstains.

The wounded hawk struggled to gain height, flapped its wings and circled, then dove again at the girl, this time aiming for her eyes. Fear and helplessness flickered in the girl's beautiful eyes; her Violent Rain Pear Blossom Needle had expended all its ammunition, and facing this vicious hawk, she did not know how to respond.

Just as the hawk was about to pounce on him, its body suddenly stalled in midair, its wings pausing for a moment before it flapped hard—yet Hu Xiaotian appeared just in time, raising the dagger in his hand and viciously stabbing it into the hawk's back; feathers flew everywhere, and the rain kicked up by its wings splashed onto both of them. Hu Xiaotian gave a powerful swing of his arm, hurling the hawk's corpse down into the ten‑thousand‑foot abyss.

The gray‑clad man stepped onto the suspension bridge, his long blade tracing a gorgeous arc—whoosh! —he chopped the right‑hand cable; the cable snapped with a sound, and the bridge tilted to one side.

Murong Feiyan bit her lip hard, gripping the iron cable with one hand; she saw the tilted bridge, heard the terrified cries behind her, and saw the gray‑clad man raise his long blade, already aiming at another of the bridge's four supporting cables—if all were cut, the three people still on the bridge would have no way out.

Murong Feiyan stared at the gray‑clad man; they were about six zhang apart—a distance she could normally cross with ease, but now…

Murong Feiyan dared not look down, nor dare to think; reality gave her no time to ponder—should she wait for death or rise up and fight? This crisis amounted, in a sense, to injecting her with a potent stimulant; what she now had to face first was her own and her companions' survival, not any fear of heights. In the end it was just death; Murong Feiyan made up her mind, let out a spirited shout, planted her toes on the bridge, leapt into the air like an arrow released from a bow, and thrust her sword toward the gray‑clad man.

The gray‑clad man's cold eyes showed surprise; he had not expected Murong Feiyan to possess such formidable combat strength, so he could only cease chopping the bridge's cables, swing his long blade, and clash with her again.

The suspension bridge, held by three iron cables, began to tilt; Hu Xiaotian gripped the cable tightly and shouted, 'Hurry up!'

The girl, still shaken from the hawk attack, only snapped out of her daze when she heard Hu Xiaotian's loud shout; she hastily grabbed the cable and staggered across to the opposite side.

Whoosh! —a feathered arrow tore through the air, aimed straight at the girl's chest; seeing the cold light coming, she instinctively ducked, the arrow whizzing past above her head; before the first had passed, a second came flying. In panic she retreated backward, accidentally stepped on a gap between the planks, cried out, and fell through—she was still underage, her body too frail, and she seemed about to slip through the opening; Hu Xiaotian saw the danger, leapt forward, and seized her arm. Hu Xiaotian's desperate, self‑sacrificing rescue was no act of righteous courage, nor did he harbor any thought of Hero Saves the Beauty; he would have loved to tear this girl to pieces, but now her life was literally in his hands—if she died, he would have to die with her. Saving her life was tantamount to saving his own.

Hu Xiaotian had just seized the girl when a feathered arrow struck the plank beside him—thunk! —it buried deep in the wood, the white fletching at the tail trembling before his eyes.

Liang Da Zhuang and Shao Yijiao were both dumbfounded by the sudden turn of events; Shao Yijiao was the first to regain his composure, spotting the arrows coming from the right‑hand woods and shouting loudly, 'Da Zhuang, you stay behind to provide support!' The urgent priority was to eliminate the archers lying in wait in the forest.

Murong Feiyan and the gray‑clad man fought fast against fast, weaving back and forth at the bridge's entrance, blades meeting swords; in an instant they had exchanged over a dozen moves. Murong Feiyan's fierce swordplay forced the gray‑clad man to retreat, but he blocked two of her killing blows, grunted, shook his right arm, and sent a cold gleam of his long blade straight toward her throat.

From the position and angle of that cold gleam, Murong Feiyan had already gauged the speed of his blade; she gathered her inner strength, took a lateral step, shifted her body quickly two feet to the right, and performed a horizontal cross‑cut. Although her sidestep was small, it was just enough to evade his attack—the long blade brushed past her body, only to be struck aside by her sword, veering off to one side. The gray‑clad man sank his wrist, and his long blade instantly transformed into a blizzard of blade shadows.

Before Murong Feiyan's eyes lay nothing but icy glints, streaks of overbearing blade qi surging in the air, stirring up gusts that blew her garments backward with a howling sound. The gray‑clad man resembled a beast lunging forward; he stepped his right foot ahead, thrust his body forward powerfully, and the myriad blade shadows instantly coalesced into a single cold light that pierced the air—though the blade had not yet arrived, a shocking force had already ripped through the space toward her.

Murong Feiyan marveled that such a frail physique could unleash such tremendous power; this man's inner strength and swordsmanship were already sufficient to rank him among first‑rate masters.

Murong Feiyan did not choose to retreat; although she did not look back, the successive cries from behind let her imagine the perilous situation there—when two strong forces meet, only the brave prevail! She thrust her long sword forward; with a clang! it shot out like a released spring, stabbing straight at the opponent's blade edge.

Their gazes met through the layers of rain, first encountering each other in the void; the gray‑clad man's pupils noticeably contracted—he had never imagined that a young woman, in a life‑and‑death struggle, could display such composure and calm.

The sword's edge and the blade's tip collided, emitting a low, muffled hum; at the same moment, a bolt of lightning tore through sky and earth, striking straight down into the bottomless ten‑thousand‑foot abyss. Where the lightning passed, a pine tree growing on the cliff was split cleanly in half, instantly bursting into flames, and a dull thunder rumbled nearby. Murong Feiyan twisted her wrist; the sword blade and hilt suddenly separated, the blade shooting off like an arrow released from a bow, sliding along the opponent's blade toward his chest.

The gray‑clad man never imagined that Murong Feiyan's long sword concealed a mechanism; his pupils dilated suddenly from fear, and at such close range he had no time to dodge—the sword pierced his chest with a puff!; his long blade slowly fell to the ground. Murong Feiyan stepped forward, hilt and blade re‑united, she twisted her wrist and thrust forward fiercely; the bright sword blade ran through his body, the tip protruding from his back. She drew her sword, kicked his corpse away, and his body rolled twice down the slope before plunging into the valley below.

The mountain fire sparked by the lightning spread rapidly in a short time, flames raging, thick smoke rolling, about to engulf the exit of this suspended bridge. Precisely because the smoke and flames provided cover, the archers hidden in the forest could temporarily not aim at their targets. Hu Xiaotian seized the opportunity, grabbed the little girl's wrist, and pulled her back onto the bridge.

Hu Xiaotian pointed at the bridge exit blocked by smoke and shouted at the little girl, 'Run past it!'

The little girl was still shaken and hadn't heard clearly what Hu Xiaotian said; he snapped angrily, 'Idiot, let you run fast!' Vote for the Dream Cup!

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