Blood Mist Fills the Air

Blood Mist Fills the Air

"Impossible! This is absolutely impossible!"

At that moment, the middle-aged scholar's hair was disheveled, and both his sleeves hung empty. The destruction of his magical artifact and the severing of his connection to the two ghost hands had inflicted a terrible backlash upon him.

His eyes had turned bloodshot, and everywhere he looked was a field of crimson.

Thick, darkened blood seeped from his nostrils, trickling down his lips and chin before dripping onto the tops of his shoes.

Staring at the still-dispersing firestorm before him, the middle-aged scholar's muddled mind suddenly jolted awake, regaining a sliver of clarity.

"Run! I have to find the prince! The prince will definitely have a way to save me, definitely!"

Just as the middle-aged scholar struggled to pull himself together and prepared to flee deeper into the manor, his ears twitched slightly, catching the sharp whistle of a sword slicing toward him from behind!

"Not good!"

He had just prepared to turn and face the attack, but in his terrible condition, how could he immediately mobilize his spiritual power? Worse still, having lost both hands, he could no longer form hand seals to cast spells, making his casting even slower.

The middle-aged scholar could only watch in despair as that terrifying female swordswoman leaped into the air, cleaving through the lingering flames with one strike and charging toward him amid the roar of wind and thunder.

Squelch!

In the end, the middle-aged scholar did not even have time to raise a spiritual energy shield before his heart meridian was pierced by a sword that passed straight through his chest. All the strength in his body vanished in an instant.

His mouth opened slightly as he trembled and turned around, staring despairingly toward the depths of the manor. In a hoarse voice, he cried, "Big Brother, save me."

Yet all around him was silent, without the slightest response.

The middle-aged scholar froze for a moment, then gave a mocking laugh and fell to the ground like a wooden stake. As he died, he looked at the bloodstained sword tip protruding from his chest.

Heh, it was actually his own Black Blood Sword.

Xiao Liang sighed, stepped forward quickly, took Qin Long's right hand, and examined it.

He then took out a Rejuvenation Talisman and placed it over her hand. The minor burns on her palm and fingers healed in an instant.

"He was already doomed. Why were you in such a hurry? You even had to use that ruined sword that got roasted until it lost its spirituality."

Xiao Liang had seen it clearly just now. The moment he caught the enemy off guard with the Fire Chi Pearl, the magical artifact he had only recently refined, and destroyed the man's ghost hands and magical artifact—

Qin Long could no longer suppress her killing intent. She shot forward, caught the scorching-hot flexible sword in midair, and cleanly sent the middle-aged scholar to hell.

Even with her spiritual power protecting her body, the act had still burned her pale hand.

"I have waited a long time for this moment. The feeling of personally killing an enemy is wonderful. He was merely the first."

Yet Qin Long seemed utterly unconcerned. She smiled brightly at Xiao Liang.

Then she looked at the sword hanging at her waist, named Luoshui, and said, "I have a sword move of immense power, but it requires time to build up sword momentum. I cannot use it casually, so I used his sword instead."

"What kind of swordsmanship is that mysterious?"

A strange light appeared in Xiao Liang's eyes. He touched the scabbard and carefully sensed it.

Sure enough, he detected a layer of condensed, unusual spiritual power on the sword at Qin Long's waist, tightly locking down the aura of the entire blade.

Even the spiritual radiance and sword qi of the spirit artifact itself had been suppressed to almost nothing.

One could imagine that once the sword was drawn, it would surely be a terrifying strike that caught the enemy completely unprepared.

"It is a true inheritance-grade sword art called Four Symbols Swordsmanship. This move is called Azure Dragon Concealing the Pearl. Want to learn it? I can teach you!"

The corner of Qin Long's lips lifted as she placed a hand on Xiao Liang's shoulder, only for him to brush it away without mercy.

"Trying to learn too much will only leave you with nothing. I still need to learn artifact refining from that old ghost next. Where would I find the time to practice swordsmanship?"

Xiao Liang curled his lip and casually stored the tank at the entrance inside his Heaven-Earth Bracelet, doing his best to keep a straight face and pretend he did not care that much.

As for Lord Liang himself, he was handsome and talented.

He had quite the knack for comprehending most spells. Otherwise, he could not have cultivated Ghost Shadow Step to mastery within three years.

But when it came to sword arts, saber techniques, and the like, his aptitude was almost as awful as his Spirit Root talent.

Back when he first held a sword in his youth, he had already realized in despair that he was probably not cut out to be one of those wandering swordsmen of the martial world.

But now, perhaps there was a chance to improve the next generation's aptitude for swordsmanship?

Xiao Liang tapped his forehead, cast aside those wild thoughts, called out to Pandora, and the three of them headed deeper into the manor.

The Grand General's Manor covered an enormous area. Scenic courtyards of every kind, ponds and lakes meant for leisurely viewing, and waterside pavilions stretched endlessly along the way.

Not only was the manor surrounded by tall outer walls, but even within those walls, it was divided into an outer courtyard and an inner courtyard.

However, one thing troubled Xiao Liang slightly. Ever since entering the manor, aside from the middle-aged scholar they had encountered at the entrance, he had not seen a single living person.

The empty manor was frighteningly quiet.

Together with the gloomy, oppressive weather of the past few days, it sent a chill through their hearts.

"What is Yan Wuxu up to? We have already come knocking at his door. Why has he not appeared? Could he have fled?"

Qin Long frowned, thinking of one possibility as her grip around her sword tightened slightly.

After thinking for a moment, Xiao Liang shook his head. "Probably not. The strength we have revealed is only that of ordinary Mid Qi Refining Stage cultivators. Even when we broke through the Imperial Guards, it was by relying on the Mechanical Puppet."

"Yan Wuxu is at the Ninth Qi Refining Stage and has operated in the Yan Kingdom for many years. I do not believe he has no measures prepared in his own lair. This is his home ground. There is no reason for him to leave so easily without even testing us."

Qin Long nodded, suddenly recalling what the middle-aged scholar had done before dying. He had obviously been seeking help, so she told Xiao Liang about it.

"Then that confirms it. Yan Wuxu is definitely still inside the manor. The man controlling the ghost hands called for help toward the depths of the manor. Then we just need to kill our way in. But something is clearly amiss, so we must be careful."

The three of them picked up their pace slightly and soon passed through the outer courtyard.

Pandora threw a punch, smashing down part of the inner courtyard wall. Beyond it lay a long corridor.

The moment Xiao Liang and Qin Long stepped inside, they exchanged a glance and both noticed something strange.

"There is actually fog ahead. Huh, this is not ordinary water mist. It is pale red, like blood!"

"No wonder we did not see a single person along the way. The smell of blood is so strong here. Could they all have died here?"

Xiao Liang wrinkled his nose slightly and caught a wisp of blood mist drifting over from the distance. He rubbed it between his fingers, and his fingertips were already damp with blood.

Just as he had guessed, this thing was made from blood. It even carried a faint, almost imperceptible warmth.

It sickeningly provoked an unwelcome thought—perhaps this wisp had only just sprayed from the blood vessel of some human body.

"Since the enemy has made a move, I have no reason to stop here!"

Qin Long's gaze was resolute. The blood mist before them nearly covered the entire inner courtyard, leaving no path around it.

And her greatest enemy was very likely hidden in the darkness of that blood mist, watching her every movement. She would not retreat, nor could she.

(End of Chapter)