Chapter 160 — Spring Water Wrinkled by the Wind
The Herdsman of the Wasteland · Page 2 of 4
In the sky a man's head came tumbling down, and a headless, bird-winged Witch King flapped and fluttered, gold spilled everywhere through the air — it was that Witch King of the north, the man-headed, bird-bodied one.
Of all the Witch Kings present, he alone was a patriarch-class being of the Spirit Bridge realm, and he had been taken by surprise by the Butcher, cut down by a single blade at close range. The Butcher belonged to the combat-technique school; for him to close in — the outcome was easy to imagine. The Butcher came down, landing steady as ever upon the Green Ox's back, and called the ox to a halt.
"Your master is out of danger now; a few more wounds and he can cut his way free. Green Ox, take us to Loulan's Golden Palace.
" The Green Ox hesitated.
"Will you not save the master, old sir?
The master is filial, and ever speaks of your goodness. " "Save him for what? To pester me?
" The Butcher shook his head.
"These years in the village I have had such quiet, and the mere thought of that fellow's nagging makes my head ache.
Go where I tell you, and one more word and we eat beef. Do you know what I did in the village?
" The Green Ox shuddered and dared not speak.
The ox was shrewd, and had long since seen that this man was a butcher of pigs and oxen.
"Master! " From the peak came Libationer Bashan's voice — plainly wounded, his breath short — and jubilant with it: "Master, it is you after all!
I knew you were not dead!
All these years you left me in Jingping and went off to live free and easy — how will you make it up to me?
I have so much to tell you. .
.
" "Run," said the Butcher.
The Green Ox bolted in panic toward Loulan's Golden Palace. Libationer Bashan was about to charge off the summit when the other seven Witch Kings joined strength and pressed him down, and he had no choice but to fall back onto the peak. Those seven Witch Kings too were riding a tiger.
The eight of them had joined forces to suppress Libationer Bashan, meaning to refine him to death, never expecting that the Heavenly Khagan, rumored dead these many years, would appear again and slay their strongest with a single stroke.
They had thought the Heavenly Khagan would turn on them next, and Libationer Bashan, his spirits soaring, had instead loosed his fiercest attacks upon them all at once, pinning them where they stood so that they could not flee — and their souls had all but left them for terror. And now the Heavenly Khagan had simply abandoned Libationer Bashan there and ridden off on his ox.
Libationer Bashan was utterly bewildered; then the truth broke upon him, and he cursed and railed, stabbing his finger at the old man's backbone behind his back. Half a day more, and the Green Ox bore them back to the shore of the Weak Water Lake and halted. The Butcher looked at the Blind Old Man.
"Blind Old Man, you and Shen'er come up the mountain with me. I have no lower half now, and I cannot beat that old devil. " "Good.
" The Blind Old Man leapt down from the ox's back.
Shen Mu told Ling Yuxiu, the little snow fox, and the Green Ox to stay, saying, "We will be back before long.
" Ling Yuxiu nodded.
"Take care, all of you. " The Butcher came to the shore of the Weak Water Lake and shook his head.
"Bashan, that boy — all these years and no progress; he could not even shift this lake.
" He drew a long breath.
Behind him, Ling Yuxiu, the little fox, and the Green Ox could not help but be aghast: wind churned and clouds surged on every side, and the clouds in the sky were swept in by the gale and poured into the mouth of the old man before them, who had only an upper half.
The grassland lay high and the clouds hung rather low, yet they were still a thousand zhang distant; the old man took one breath and drew even the white clouds of heaven into his belly — strong to a degree that bordered on the outrageous. "This is — this is.
. . a legend, the very greatest master of the combat-technique school!