Chapter 155 — The Treasure Talisman Unsealed
The Herdsman of the Wasteland · Page 1 of 4
Simuluo's twin wings whirled before him in guard, the swords that made up those wings shifting and swapping places without cease, changing position as he strove to block Shen Mu's attack — but the next moment the Drilling Sword Style pierced through the defense of his wings! Simuluo's heart lurched and pain stabbed his chest; his golden body could not withstand the Drilling Sword Style.
At once he beat his wings and rose, his two wings stirring up a wild wind. Whoosh!
The instant the gale rose, Shen Mu trod the wind and ran; terror showed in Simuluo's eyes — Shen Mu's speed as he raced through the air was even greater than his own wing-borne flight!
The Lame Elder's Heaven-Stealing Leg Art was unmatched in speed under heaven. Had Simuluo not beaten his wings to raise that gale, Shen Mu would have found it hard to catch him in the air; but once the wind rose, the air was as level ground to Shen Mu.
"Go! " Simuluo barked, and from the wings at his back golden swords flew out one after another, stabbing toward Shen Mu, striving to keep him from drawing near.
In a single instant his wings were emptied, leaving only two gleaming golden fleshy wings.
His body plunged at once; just then saber-light like a waterfall clashed with the swiftly stabbing golden swords, and with a hiss one golden sword pierced through Shen Mu's waterfall of saber-light and buried itself in his left shoulder — precisely at the point where the left shoulder blade divides in two. And Shen Mu's form arrived before Simuluo, passing him by, a snow-bright blade of light sweeping across Simuluo's neck.
The blade-light was very thin; it seemed to have cut into Simuluo, sinking into his neck and emerging from behind it — yet it also seemed to have done him no harm at all. Simuluo landed; golden swords came flying back with a clatter, returning behind him to form two wings. Those two gleaming golden wings spread with a whoosh, golden light shooting in all directions.
"Well done, Brother Simuluo!
" a voice cried, startled and delighted. The other shamans, greatly heartened, shouted one after another: "Brother Simuluo, finish off this slave of Jingping!
" "The people of Jingping are all two-legged sheep, fit only to be used for cultivation, unfit to live in this world!
" .
.
.
Shen Mu landed; his flying swords came one after another, dropping in succession into the sword case at his back.
The youth drew the golden sword from his shoulder and flung it to the ground.
The brocade robe on his body was still intact; when the sword had stabbed at him, the robe had blocked it for a moment, but it had still pierced through the robe into his shoulder blade.
So-called immunity to blade and spear could not in truth fully stop blade and spear; though this garment of his, woven of six-winged golden silkworm silk, had blocked the golden sword, he could not escape being wounded. Below the Golden Terrace the cheers shook the heavens, and Simuluo still stood with wings spread, awe-inspiring, seeming to savor the crowd's acclaim.
Shen Mu walked forward; the cheers gradually died down. Shen Mu raised his hands and slid his two sabers back into the saber sheath at his back, and came to Simuluo's side — but Simuluo still did not move at all, still with his golden wings spread behind him, without any guard or resistance.
Shen Mu raised a hand, seized his hair, and with a light lift took his head from his neck and flung it down from the terrace.
The cheering below the Golden Terrace grew fainter and fainter; only the shamans far off who had not seen this sight still cheered, and it rang all the more harshly on the ear. The head rolled clattering down from the terrace, rolled to the side of the shamans still cheering, and the sound gradually died away. Simuluo, who had cultivated the Shaman Venerable Louluo Scripture, the sect-guarding art, was dead too — at the very moment he seemed to hold victory in his grasp, Shen Mu had taken his head with a single blade.