Chapter 93 — Miasma

Within the brilliant golden-blue radiance Shihun at once steadied, no longer drifting with the wind, and held firm there in the midst of the storm. Ming Li concentrated and observed, but the storm around him only grew fiercer, the clouds surging in fury, and everywhere his eyes reached there was nothing but gray.

Ming Li brooded a moment, and at last knew this was a place of terrible danger where he could not linger. He drove Shihun to force its way toward the edge of the violently spinning storm; after an instant of thunderous roaring in his ears and a spinning of heaven and earth, he at last burst free of that tempest's eye hidden within the outwardly placid miasma.

The force of that burst was no small thing. Once out of the miasma vortex he still shot far onward before he could stop, and after such a buffeting his head was spinning. Though the miasma around him was gradually calming, Ming Li's brows knit; he could not tell whether he had gone astray.

As he brooded, Xiao Hui on his shoulder suddenly screamed a sharp warning. Ming Li was startled; without time even to look closely, he moved almost by instinct and flung his body three chi to the side in midair.

"ROAR!"

Through the gray clouds a huge black thing hurtled past, sweeping through the very place where he had just stood. A rank stench assailed his nostrils so violently that even Shihun's ring of light could not wholly block it, and it seeped faintly through.

A moment later the grotesque thing vanished once more into the miasma.

Ming Li stood stunned. His heart suddenly began to pound violently; that immense creature which had appeared and vanished in an instant had struck him like a blow to the head. The next moment, heedless of Xiao Hui's screeching, he gave chase, reckless of the enormous danger.

But the monster had vanished in a flash. Its body was inconceivably huge, yet its speed was by no means slow, and with this thick wall of miasma limiting sight to half a zhang, in a moment he could no longer find any trace of it.

Ming Li frowned and slowly came to a halt. As he gathered his wits, a startled cry suddenly rang out ahead, followed by a great clamor of shouts from all sides—there were several people ahead, and the monster's passing must have scattered them all in panic.

Ming Li's spirits lifted. He flew up bodily, and saw the clouds before him parting and rolling. Suddenly an angry shout rang out ahead, a voice cold and clear: "Demon!"

Before the word had died away, a fierce blue light burst in from the side and thrust straight at his chest, like a rainbow spanning the heavens, and in an instant it bathed even the surrounding miasma in brilliant blue.

Ming Li was greatly startled. This one's sword way was savage and unstoppable, striking without the least mercy; the mere height of cultivation revealed in that single thrust was not to be underestimated. In that critical moment, instead of slowing, he sped forward faster, flashing like lightning straight up into the sky to shake off the sword behind him and then strike back.

But the one among the clouds was truly no ordinary foe. The two of them were now separated by miasma and could not see each other's figures, yet guided solely by the sense of the sword, that blue light came pursuing with the speed of wind and lightning, clinging like a shadow to the bone, and the distance between them did not shrink in the least.

In moments the miasma nearby was churned wide open. Ming Li became a dim blue radiance, and behind him a streak of blue light; the two of them soared to the heavens and plunged to the earth, shifting form and position, swift as lightning and light, chasing without end through those layers of poison, and wherever they passed the clouds and mist went seething.

Amid the pursuit Ming Li's brows were locked tight. The one behind him had exceedingly high cultivation; in the haste of it he could not clearly see what artifact she wielded, but the ferocity of that killing intent was unmistakable. She was certainly no comrade of his—most likely one of the righteous path, sworn to his destruction.

Which formidable figure of the righteous path could this be?

The thought had scarcely stirred when his hands were already beginning to strike back. If they kept chasing like this, the one behind might be untroubled enough, but he himself would be blundering about like a headless fly—and who knew what further strangeness he might run into?

The blue radiance suddenly blazed brighter. Ming Li's figure shot up abruptly, wheeling about in midair, and Shihun hung dimly before his chest. The blue sword glare behind him seemed to sense something as well; it surged and grew still more ferocious, driving straight at his chest.

Ming Li seized Shihun before him, and the blue bead set in its black shaft blazed with light. Beneath that radiance, thread upon thread of blood-red lines seemed to kindle as well, the red blood flowing darkly within—red light and blue glare, dim and deep—as he turned to meet that blue sword glare head-on.

"BOOM!"

Ming Li's body shook violently, and he was driven back a full zhang willy-nilly. But the blue sword glare before him was likewise hurled back with a great shock, and someone in the clouds seemed to give a stifled grunt, plainly none too comfortable either.

In these years Ming Li had day and night cultivated the Demonic Heavenly Book, and with the "Blood-devouring Bead" ever at his side, the violent temper in his nature had long since grown heavy. Now he said not a word more, but flew straight forward, and Shihun went tearing through the air.

To his surprise, the moment Shihun struck, the clouds ahead split asunder. The enemy was every bit as unyielding; no sooner had she steadied herself than she attacked with all her force. Ming Li gave a fierce whistle, drove his artifact, and in an instant was locked in combat with that blue sword glare.

By now Shihun and the blue light were already battling in flight, but the clouds rolled and churned, and Ming Li's naked eye could no longer make out the artifacts' forms; he could only steer by his own sense of Shihun.

This sudden fight was perilous in the extreme for both sides. Both were figures of very high cultivation; one misstep, and even if one did not die by the other's hand, a single wound or lapse of attention would let the deadly miasma around them invade the body—and that too meant death with no way out.

The one ahead had plainly not expected to meet such an opponent. Though she was within the clouds and her face could not be seen, her swordplay showed she was not about to yield an inch.

In that flash of a moment, Shihun and the blue sword glare collided furiously within the miasma. With a great rumbling boom, and centered on those two artifacts, the miasma churned and faintly formed itself into another vast vortex.

Though far apart, Shihun was an artifact forged in Ming Li's own blood, and their bond was still as flesh to flesh. Ming Li felt that cold sensation upon Shihun gradually begin to boil, as though the artifact itself had a spirit and was growing excited. The feeling was truly strange; it had not come to him once since his cultivation had reached its height.

Only, long, long ago, when he had still been an ignorant youth, he had felt this sensation before...

His heart gave a sudden start!

As though something faint and hidden had stirred within him.

Shihun and the blue sword glare clashed violently one last time, and then it flew back. By now the vortices around them were growing ever greater, and the duel between Ming Li and that person had reached its most intense moment. The two were separated by miasma, relying solely on their spiritual senses—on one hand guarding against the other's attack, on the other warding off the deadly miasma around them. In a place so perilous, plainly the sooner this battle ended, the better!