Chapter 90 — The Sword Across His Knees Slays the Specters
The Herdsman of the Wasteland · Page 1 of 3
At the village entrance, the old man who smoked a pipe of human bone was moved. He turned and faced him.
Shen Mu, fierce in his momentum, rode a surging wave that came howling in, bearing down as though to blot out sky and earth.
Water—if swift enough—can smash all things, cleave all things, destroy all things. Such was the wondrous use of the Dark Warrior's primal qi: the Dark Warrior's qi commands the water, and so long as the water's speed reaches forty-six zhang in a single instant, it can cleave steel; let it fall upon a man's body, and it will cut him clean in two—nothing it cannot break.
Shen Mu trod the crest of the wave, rolling straight over the old man, his momentum flooding the heavens.
With the Deaf Elder's diagram roused in him, and the dragon's blood besides, and that great furnace the Silent Artisan had hidden within his body, he had confidence to face anyone.
At the village entrance, the old man with the human-bone pipe raised a hand and collided with a crash against the long river bearing down with heaven-flooding force; the whole river, advancing like a giant python, collapsed and scattered into a flood that spread in all directions. At the same moment, the old man's two fingers pinched lightly, and the Chubao Sword, which had thrust out of the water, halted its momentum.
"Have you found the Land of No Sorrow?
" the old man asked with a chuckle.
In the very instant the old man pinched the Chubao Sword, Shen Mu's palm had already closed on the hilt; all the power in his body erupted, and he thrust forward.
This old man was stronger than he had reckoned, but his eyes had opened the Nine Heavens of the Sacred Pupil, and he could see the shifting currents of power within the old man's body.
When the old man raised a hand to hold back the long river and pinched the sword's tip, his strength had already reached its limit; add Shen Mu's own bodily power now, and it would exceed what he could withstand. The dragon's blood and the Deaf Elder's diagram had raised Shen Mu's fleshly strength to its utmost, and the power his body could explode with was in no way inferior to his present raging mana.
At this thrust the old man's expression changed at once; his two fingers could not hold the sword's tip, the Chubao Sword pierced his palm, and with a hiss the tip nailed itself into his chest. "Old sir, I will send you now to the Land of No Sorrow!
" Shen Mu drove down with his feet, and the Chubao Sword shoved the old man forward.
The old man, who had sat motionless before, now lowered his legs, but even so he could hardly withstand Shen Mu's terrifying strength; his two legs plowed two deep furrows in the ground.
Clang! The old man's other hand swung up the human-bone pipe and struck the Chubao Sword hard.
Shen Mu's arm shuddered and went numb; he let go, and his qi swept the Chubao Sword up to trace a level circle in the air, slicing toward the old man's neck.
The Cloud Sword Style! His swordsmanship had been guided by the Village Head; though it was made of the simplest moves—thrust, cloud, lift, and the like—its power was frighteningly great.
The old man hurriedly dodged back, but the Chubao Sword kept spinning in its circle, clinging to his neck, so that he could only retreat and retreat.
One more step back and he would come to the boundary stone of the Dead's Living Realm.
Meanwhile, the scattered waters rose again, howling in from all sides, coiling around the old man like great pythons.
Suddenly the human-bone pipe in the old man's hand flew up to block the Chubao Sword; from the pipe gushed a thick fog that spread across the sky, and within the fog the smoke gathered into skull after skull, shrieking and chittering, pouncing at Shen Mu, boring into his body to tear at his soul.
Shen Mu had sealed his own soul with the Heavenly Demon Art of Creation; he let the smoke-made skulls gnaw and tear, yet they could never drag his soul out of his body.