Wu Zaigu knew there was nothing wrong with his saber strike. It would cleave the boy in two. But the boy's sword might pierce his throat a moment sooner-or at the same time, or a little later. He could not make out the silver dragon's trajectory at all, so he had no way to judge, much less block it.
Did he dare gamble?
Closer now. The boy's resolute expression grew clearer, without a trace of wavering in his eyes.
There was no solution to this impasse. The barefoot never feared those wearing shoes.
Wu Zaigu gritted his teeth and drifted backward in a long arc, landing at the doorway. He stared at Pei Ye, his expression dark.
Pei Ye slowly spread his feet and assumed a textbook sword stance, solemnly facing the first truly formidable enemy of his life.
However high your cultivation, however powerful your true qi, you haven't grown scales over your vital points. You can kill me with a casual move, certainly, but I won't need a second stroke to slit your throat either.
Chapter 19: Immortal
In the dim, eerie blue space, saber and sword faced each other.
Wu Zaigu felt like a leopard confronting a venomous snake. One swipe could tear it apart, yet he could not be sure of escaping its dying bite.
And its venom was so terribly potent.
He kept probing. In moments, they had exchanged five or six moves, yet their blades had never clashed. In fact, the moment they did, Pei Ye's defeat would be certain. It was precisely because Wu Zaigu could not catch his sword that he dared not commit to an attack.
If Wu Zaigu merely found the situation troublesome, Pei Ye was walking on thin ice. "Utter concentration" was not enough to describe trading moves with an opponent like this. His mind was already stretched to its limit, yet several times he had still failed to react, driving his enemy back with purely instinctive sword strikes.
His opponent was still too fast.
Pei Ye knew he had little time. His stamina, his focus, his inferiority in every respect meant he could not hold on forever. A single delayed reaction would separate his head from his body.
He was even more desperate than his opponent to break the deadlock.
Wu Zaigu attacked again. This time, he tried coming from directly above.
But just as he was about to leap, Pei Ye suddenly exploded into motion. Sword light came at him like flying snow, catching him precisely at that awkward instant between rising and not yet rising.
Yet such timing remained useless against someone whose body brimmed with true qi. Wu Zaigu calmly changed his stance, but he still had no answer to the sword, and could only dodge again.
This time, however, Pei Ye pressed his advantage, becoming the attacker. His next stroke pursued even faster, followed by a third and a fourth. His stamina drained rapidly, yet his attacks only grew fiercer.
Pei Ye was learning. He felt he was about to master this stroke.
Pei Ye had always known that the swordsmanship he relied on to drive Wu Zaigu back possessed only the outward form.
He had practiced the [Snowy Night Flying Goose Sword Form] Grandpa Yue taught him for two years. His swordsmanship had improved constantly, but he had never truly mastered even a single form.
Ever since the feeling that he "hadn't mastered it" arose, each practice session had seemed to bring him closer to true mastery. Yet it always felt like chasing a mountain until the horse dropped dead.
Only today, when he rose and struck within a hair's breadth to repel that irresistible saber, had he felt death approach his throat and withdraw at a touch. Cold sweat poured from him, while his understanding of the swordsmanship leaped higher and higher, as though the tangled brush in his mind had suddenly cleared.
He struck without pause, chasing that glimmer of inspiration, and that slender thread of survival.
If I can master this stroke, I really can pierce his throat!
It was a gamble: whether he would grasp the sword move hovering just within reach first, or his opponent would find a way to deal with him sooner.
The two maneuvered through the cellar. As time passed, the situation began sliding against Pei Ye. He kept striking, but that glimmer of inspiration remained elusive, while his stamina and focus steadily dwindled.
Wu Zaigu was equally quick to notice his slowing strikes. Finally, after dodging another stroke, he surged true qi beneath his feet, suddenly leaped forward, and delivered a surprise slash. Unable to follow through with his next stroke in time, Pei Ye could only hastily spring backward to evade it.
Pei Ye's heart sank.
When his opponent could attempt a slash without feeling sufficiently threatened, he had lost the means to hold him in check.
Now he could only defend, not attack.
Pei Ye had fallen into a predicament, but Wu Zaigu suddenly thought of a way to crush the venomous snake before him in one move.
Wu Zaigu glanced at the burning Dark Blue flame and gave Pei Ye a strange smile. He gathered up a fold of his robe's lower hem and raised his saber to cut it off.
An ominous feeling rose in Pei Ye's heart. Before he could work out what Wu Zaigu intended, however, a strange roar suddenly rang through the cellar, interrupting their standoff.
Pei Ye turned and saw a sight he would never forget.
At some point, Old Xiangzi had crawled to the altar table.
The bronze cup containing the "Immortal Water" rolled onto the floor. Amid the eerie blue light and shadow, a monster writhed, transformed, and grew.
It was Old Xiangzi. His torso stretched until it almost reached the ceiling, while Dark Blue scales continually sprouted across his body, like shadows devouring his sallow skin. Hard, black bone spurs ripped through his clothes. Blood flowed ceaselessly onto the floor, and his hands and feet changed into powerful, sharp claws.
He raised a pain-twisted face toward them, his pupils gradually turning gold.
Over ten feet tall indeed. Clad in armor indeed. Awe-inspiring indeed.
Pei Ye finally knew where those supposedly elusive "monsters" came from.
Uncle Lin had been bitten to death by the daughter he cherished.
"Pei... lad, don't be scared... I'm becoming an immortal... I'll... help... you..." After speaking in that strange voice, he gave a horrifying roar and lunged at Wu Zaigu.
But Wu Zaigu was already prepared. The instant he saw the transformation, he had turned his blade without hesitation. Now, facing Old Xiangzi, the slash that had never landed on Pei Ye finally revealed its true power.
Old Xiangzi's outstretched forearm was severed like a wooden pole. The blade continued unabated, biting into his chest and sending him flying more than ten feet.
Pei Ye looked at the severed forearm on the floor. The flesh inside remained human red, but the bone had turned Dark Blue. He suspected that, had the bone fully transformed, the slash would not have been nearly so effective.
Old Xiangzi's chest, however, had not been split in two. The bones within were still Dark Blue. At a glance, Pei Ye saw human skin still remaining elsewhere on his body, but his throat was completely covered in scales.
...It even knows to protect its vital points first.
Though all sorts of shocked thoughts flashed through Pei Ye's mind, his body could not let such an opportunity pass. He immediately flicked his sword into a strike at Wu Zaigu's flank.
Having slashed Old Xiangzi back, Wu Zaigu did not pursue his advantage, but turned toward the table. The sudden rush of wind at his side startled him. He had not expected Pei Ye to attack now. He hastily leaped aside and snarled, "You're courting death!"
But Old Xiangzi lunged again immediately afterward. Though he had lost an arm, he seemed fiercer still. Unable to dodge in time, Wu Zaigu could only raise his saber horizontally to block, the impact numbing his arm slightly. On the other side, Pei Ye kept up the pressure, each stroke faster than the last, ruthlessly squeezing out his remaining stamina to deny Wu Zaigu even a moment's respite.
Attacked from both sides, Wu Zaigu struggled to fend them off, danger closing in everywhere. He immediately made his choice: better ten claw strikes from the Frost Wraith than half a sword stroke from Pei Ye.
He twisted away from Pei Ye's sword, then raised his already wounded left arm to take Old Xiangzi's sharp claws head-on as they tore through the air.
As the claws sliced through his flesh, Wu Zaigu filled the long saber in his right hand with true qi. With a deep shout, he swept a half arc through the air, powerful enough to sever gold and jade.
Before that slash, the vicious, hideous blue-black body crumbled like rotten wood. It slammed into the wall and collapsed, almost entirely severed and caved in from right shoulder to left waist.
Old Xiangzi lay on the floor, but no longer roared. His right pupil had turned almost entirely gold. His left eye remained human, bulging with pain and filled with madness. Soon, however, scales grew across it, burying the twitching human flesh and turning this eye gold as well.
His expression became indifferent and calm. He raised his severed arm to examine it, and the flesh at the stump actually began to grow slowly.
Only then did Pei Ye realize that the horrifying roars earlier had not come from this monster, but from Old Xiangzi. And now the Old Xiangzi who knew to help him, who screamed in pain, had been completely devoured by it.
He tried to stand, but his almost paralyzed upper body could provide no support for the moment.
This monster... isn't as strong as I imagined. Or is that because Old Xiangzi was weak to begin with?
Wu Zaigu ignored him and slowly turned toward Pei Ye. He shook his long saber and said coldly, "Now, it's time to finish our fight."
Chapter 20: Sword
With a sweep of his saber, he cut off almost the entire lower hem of his black robe. He folded it twice and tossed it, sending the cloth sailing steadily toward the table like a great crow.
Pei Ye frowned as he watched its arc. His gaze flicked toward where it would land, and he suddenly understood. His heart clenched.
But he had no time to do anything. The crow spread its wings over the burning blue flame, plunging the entire chamber into darkness and swallowing his contracted pupils and blanched face. The flame seemed to have no heat at all: it could neither ignite the cloth nor shine through it.
Those possessed of true qi had sharper senses. In dim light, Wu Zaigu could see more than Pei Ye; with faint sounds, Wu Zaigu could judge their direction more precisely.
If I lose ninety percent of my vision, I can still wield half my strength. If you lose ninety percent of yours, you're useless. I truly have no answer to your Sword Technique—but now, do you still know when to strike, in which direction, or how?
Pei Ye did not.
Without a target, without the details of his opponent's moves, without the distance between them or time to react, even his extraordinary skill left him helpless.
His senses had dragged his swordsmanship down. Or rather, his Sword Technique had been so exceptional that it had unexpectedly allowed him to last this long despite the immense disparity in strength.
The darkness around him seemed thick with sharp needles. A fatal blow could come at any moment, from any direction.
His heart almost stopped. Under the pressure of imminent death, Pei Ye raced to think of a countermeasure, but it was utterly futile.
This was an overt stratagem, a gulf created by raw strength. For a martial artist whose meridian tree had undergone seven growths, killing a landlubber had always been as easy as turning over a hand. Things had merely returned to their natural course.
There was no time to think further. At this point, even the worst countermeasure was better than waiting helplessly for death.
So, despite almost the entire room lying between him and the flame, Pei Ye rushed toward it from memory.
The whole room was only three to five strides across. Closer now-a faint glow seemed to appear before his eyes. But naturally, Wu Zaigu would give a cornered beast no chance. A sharp whistle screamed behind Pei Ye's head, about to slice through his neck.
This was also the final opportunity Pei Ye had been waiting for!
I don't know which direction you'll attack from, so I'll deliberately expose my vulnerable back. I don't know when you'll attack, so I'll move to lift the black cloth and force you to swing at this very moment.
His sword had long been poised to strike. He gritted his teeth, pivoted, turned, and thrust!
In utter darkness, he entrusted everything to heaven's will.
To see whether his sword could slit Wu Zaigu's throat first!
Metal clashed.
Pei Ye's heart plunged to the bottom of a ravine.
Even now, Wu Zaigu had not committed himself to an all-out attack.
Pei Ye wanted to gamble their lives on a desperate chance, but Wu Zaigu had never put his life on the table.
Pei Ye had been baiting him into swinging his saber, but had he not also been waiting for Pei Ye to strike? He sought not to kill with one slash, but to force their blades to clash.
The result was exactly as he had hoped. Against that overwhelming disparity in strength, Pei Ye's sword flew from his hand and hit the floor with a clatter, like a goose falling with a mournful cry after its wings were broken.
In his thirty years of life, Wu Zaigu had survived countless battles with his life at stake. From his early recklessness and carelessness to his seasoned cunning now, he had long understood that even a lion used its full strength to hunt a rabbit. He had also seen countless experts capsize in a gutter.
He had given Pei Ye the utmost respect. First he blinded this venomous snake, then pulled its fangs, turning it into a harmless earthworm.
Pei Ye stood motionless. The sweat evaporating from his body began to chill him. He realized he had truly become a fish on the chopping block.
In strength, experience, quick thinking, decisiveness, and composure, his opponent firmly surpassed him in every respect.
For the first time, Pei Ye truly understood this feeling: the futility after every trick was exhausted. His fate rested entirely in his enemy's hands, to kill or torment however he pleased.
This was what utter desperation meant.
Before, he had certainly known his enemy's strength, but that feeling had been one of danger and pressure, which instead stirred tremendous courage in him.
Only now did the fear of being powerless against death envelop him for the first time. He could not tell whether he feared death or powerlessness itself.
A soft chuckle came from Wu Zaigu in the darkness, along with the sound of his saber twirling. He had never imagined defeating a mere landlubber would bring him joy, but at least it was all over.
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