Chapter 308 — The Height of Baseness
The Herdsman of the Wasteland · Page 2 of 4
Shen Mu's flying swords were many, yet his locusts were no fewer. And as it happened, both men were using a sword art — pitting sword art against sword art.
Shen Mu executed the Dao Sword's Third Chapter, a sword art of the Daoist school, and Ban Gongcuo executed, of all things, the Dao Sword's Third Chapter as well. Five-hued auspicious clouds overspread the sky; across the three heavens the immortals' resonance rang clear and bright!
The same stances, the same sword art — in the hands of Daoist disciples it might be said to be filled with drifting immortal aura, detached from the world, untainted by the faintest breath of mortal smoke and fire. But in their hands, neither the sword aura nor the locusts held a trace of immortality.
Shen Mu's sword-light was overbearing; the eight thousand swords formed five-hued auspicious clouds, their three primes and five auras tyrannical beyond measure. When the flying swords clashed, there was no celestial grace whatsoever — the immortals' cadence became the rolling of war drums, the clash and carnage of weapons, and a murderous aura that shot straight up to the stars of the Ox and the Dipper!
Ban Gongcuo, for his part, drove the Dao Sword's Third Chapter with sorcery; the locusts massed into clouds, gaudy with five colors yet seething with a rolling demonic nature, looking for all the world as though every sort of venom and poison hung thick in the air — and, with the eerie strangeness of sorcery and sorcerous poison, and the locusts' shrill chittering, whatever immortal resonance had rung bright was despoiled to the very last note. Boom!
The power of the Dao Sword's Third Chapter detonated; sword met locust, and the force of the techniques burst forth.
The two men's bodies shook violently and both were hurled backward, crashing hard against the walls of the bridge, blood trickling from the corners of their mouths.
"Shen Gongcuo, your death has come! " Shen Mu wrenched himself from the wall, raised both hands high, and abruptly joined them above his head — little fingers and ring fingers locked, index and middle fingers extended straight, thumbs folded inward — forming a sword seal. The No-Sorrow Sword flew over at once, its point standing upward; swish, swish, swish — the eight thousand swords howled in and gathered into one colossal blade, with the No-Sorrow Sword at its core, ceaselessly spinning and coiling, while the Drilling Sword form and the Cleaving Sword form were unleashed at the same time.
Shen Mu chopped down with both hands — whoosh! — and the colossal blade came roaring down upon Ban Gongcuo!
"Sect Master Shen, commanding so many swords at once — I fear your cultivation is somewhat lacking, is it not?
" Ban Gongcuo held the Myriad-Locust Banner and shook it left and right; countless locusts flew back, those behind mounting on the backs of those before, forming a great shield. Swords clashed with locusts, and the swordplay changed; countless blades whirled and circled, turning into the Coiling Sword form.
Those locusts had been refined hard as steel and iron; the Drilling form could not bore through them, but the Coiling form wormed into the gaps, thrusting at Ban Gongcuo behind the shield.
"Shen Gongcuo, your magic power is running short as well, isn't it? " Shen Mu said savagely.
Ban Gongcuo was privately perplexed: "Why does this whelp keep calling me Shen Gongcuo? I don't bear the surname Shen.
How odd.
.
.