The boy turned past him, longsword in hand, and took five running steps up the tall pillar that rose straight to the roof. His clothes snapped in the wind as he soared above the man in silk on the second floor, who stood with sword extended and gaze fixed.
This was a more elaborate Play Mask. Its wearer had now raised his head and locked an icy stare on the boy.
At the very instant Pei Ye reached the peak of his leap, the silk-clad man suddenly moved like a darting falcon. His figure flickered like a phantom, seeming to come from every direction at once.
Pei Ye raised his left arm, and a torrent of flame surged out, engulfing the afterimage on the left. The silk-clad man's figure solidified on the right, already closing in before the boy.
A flash of sword light streaked as swiftly as a startled swan.
Pei Ye twisted with all his strength, and the sword carved a deep gash beneath his ribs. That wound bought him two body lengths of advance, and the longsword in his hand, its power gathered to the utmost, drew a dazzling streak of light.
The silk-clad man's eyes fixed on the sword. That stunning, blindingly fast sword light was still clear enough to him, and he drifted backward-
Then froze.
What bore down on him was not a streak of sword light, but a cold, bright moon.
It suddenly filled his entire vision, as though a folded world had unfurled before him: a cold moon and icy feathers, a jade night and a frigid lake. Frost and snow covered everything, and within that world, he was a falling goose at the heart of the lake, without sensation or awareness.
Pei Ye swept past with a single stroke, and warm,