But the youth on the cliff only looked down at him, his voice very low. He seemed to say something, but the wind and snow swallowed it-a bone-piercing chill suddenly rose through Yong Ji's body outside, and he abruptly pulled free of the Divine Realm.
Everything seemed to fall still. Countless armored creatures stiffened in sudden terror and turned, pairs of yellow or green pupils staring straight into the air.
A figure with hair flying in fury had leaped a full hundred feet high.
He hung before the black-clad figure whose eyes had abruptly opened, sword in one hand and spear in the other, his body like a great bird in midair. Surrounded by Ten Thousand Scales, he looked for all the world like an assassin striking at a king.
Yong Ji's eyes flashed. He abruptly leaned back and brought his spear across, but Pei Ye's sword had already slid along its shaft, his long sleeves burning and snapping. At this distance, the speed was utterly beyond Yong Ji's ability to counter.
He fiercely twisted his arm, and a roaring river seemed to spring into being along his spear. True qi collided, and the water for dozens of feet around swelled and burst apart. He let the sword slide past his spear toward his heart and lungs without defending, instead thrusting straight at the youth's throat.
This was Yong Ji's first attack. This heir from the north had almost never displayed his cultivation in the Divine Capital, and this, too, was power utterly beyond Pei Ye's ability to counter.
A wound for a life.
But Pei Ye did not dodge either. The spear drove straight through his throat, shredding flesh and throat bones, almost tearing his entire head away... then all of it became fluttering white feathers.
The white feathers