Chapter 128 — Cloud Traces, Sparrow Marks
The Herdsman of the Wasteland · Page 3 of 4
The wolf slave roared; his vital essence erupted, and a killing aura fierce as a blood-red sun over the desert burst from his body. His clothes blew apart, dragon-wolf markings surfaced over his whole frame, and he thrust both palms forward, pouring every scrap of his essence into them with all the strength he had!
Bang.
A violent shockwave rolled out; the wolf slave's body slid flatly backward, the two demon blades buried in his ribs, retreating dozens of yards until he crashed into a boulder and his backward slide was finally stopped.
"Ling'er, no need to rob him. Leave him a little money to treat his wounds."
Shen Mu called back Xue Hu'er, who was about to go gather the spoils, and shook his head. "He used weapons, so I struck a little hard. His wounds are not light; healing them will cost a fair sum."
Xue Hu'er smacked her lips. "What a pity. Those two blades were rather good..."
Shen Mu shook his head and walked off. "A little worse than my blade. But his strength is not bad, and his sense in battle is keener than that monk's."
Yue Qinghong waited until Shen Mu was far away before she showed herself and came to the wolf slave's side. Blood seeped from the corner of his mouth; the two demon blades had passed through his ribs and were driven into the rock behind him, pinning him there, unable to move.
"Mistress, I misjudged."
The wolf slave looked ashamed. "I used ten moves; he used only three... Look out!"
He had barely spoken when Yue Qinghong suddenly felt a warmth at her back, a body pressed tight against her from behind, and her heart gave a small jolt.
A person was pressed against her back, back to back with her, and she had not sensed at all when he had come.
Then Shen Mu's voice came at her ear, the two of them very close: "Senior Sister, is he your servant? You set your servant on me. Did you think I dare not kill anyone in the Grand Academy?"
Fine cold sweat broke out on Yue Qinghong's brow. Suddenly her feet tapped swiftly, shifting her body at speed, yet Shen Mu's body still clung to her back, and his voice sounded at her ear: "Does Senior Sister intend to give me an accounting?"
Yue Qinghong's scalp went numb. Her figure moved again and again like a ghost, with extreme speed, as she brought out the Cloud Trace, Sparrow Shadow footwork, but however she moved, Shen Mu stayed pressed to her back, shadow to her form!
Cloud Trace, Sparrow Shadow was the finest movement art she had ever learned; though she could not yet exercise its divine power, she could still tread among the clouds and skim low like a sparrow. Yet even so remarkable a movement art could not shake Shen Mu off.
Suddenly Yue Qinghong felt the muscles of the big boy behind her writhing beneath his skin like snakes, and she shuddered with dread; even her fine skin rose in tiny goosebumps from the trembling. "A killing technique of the combat-arts school!"
Shen Mu began to move his feet. Yue Qinghong suppressed the terror in her heart and followed his movement.
She knew the killing techniques of the combat-arts school were executed at close quarters; so long as she stayed against Shen Mu's back and did not let him turn, his killing technique would be hard to bring out.
A moment ago Shen Mu had been pressed to her; now she was pressed to Shen Mu, chasing his steps, not daring to part from him by half an inch.
If she parted from him, she feared her head would part from her body!
To have a master of the combat-arts school cling to you to this degree meant, in effect, immediate execution!
The two of them went swiftly along back to back, like a butterfly dancing on the mountain of the Grand Academy, drifting to and fro. Many scholars on the mountain stopped in their tracks and turned to look at the pair, marveling.
Shen Mu was in brocade, Yue Qinghong in blue; each was like one wing of the butterfly, and pressed so tightly together, they did indeed invite the imagination.