Ch. 108 – Rakshasa

“Is that…..Shixiong?” Fang Yang murmured. He first took in the sight of the two men facing each other, then focused on the Asura who had just defeated the three-headed dog.

He was much slower to react than Hao Chen, and only now realized that the outfit looked slightly familiar. Although the pattern was obscured by bloodstains, he could still faintly make out that it was the same garment Feng Ye had been wearing.

Fang Yang spoke in a hushed tone. The current situation was fraught with tension. Both wearing ghostly masks, the Asura and Rakshasa stared each other down, ready to erupt into violence at any moment.

As powerful evil spirits, they were equally matched and couldn’t afford the slightest mistake. They were focused entirely on each other, and didn’t spare a single thought for their surroundings.

Hao Chen was standing a distance away, so the only one who heard Fang Yang was Cao Zirui, who was standing directly beside him.

Cao Zirui froze when he heard this and stared in shock at the Asura. This….was Feng Ye?

This terrifying, blood-drenched man was actually Feng Ye?

Although the Path of Carnage was not technically an evil path, this Asura nonetheless had an edge on the Path of the Underworld’s Rakshasa when it came to his frightening appearance.

Unlike Feng Ye’s bloodsoaked clothes, the Rakshasa was far cleaner. He exuded hardly any killing intent, but he didn’t possess a human presence either.

Speaking of which, where had this Rakshasa come from?

Cao Zirui fell into deep thought. Wang Wu, Zhao Yi, and that wolfdog were all figures they had encountered previously, and had been living right here in the vicinity of the ancient ruins. It was no surprise that they had been swept into the Grand Array, but this Rakshasa had appeared out of nowhere.

Unless….. A guess flashed through Cao Zirui’s mind. What if the activation of this Grand Array wasn’t an accident, but a trap?

And such a trap had been set at the very site of the Living Soil. It seemed that the enemy’s only objective could be…..Cao Zirui clutched the small jar hanging from his waist.

Jianmu.

The enemy had come for Jianmu. And the Rakshasa standing before them was likely the mastermind behind the activation of the Grand Array. It was even conceivable that he was the one involved in Xue Ren’s rebellion.

Just who was this person?!

Cao Zirui’s mind raced, and he fixed his gaze intently on the Rakshasa, the man who might be behind it all.

Although his shixiong had ultimately chosen the path of rebellion due to his own flawed character, the individual who lured him step by step into that abyss was equally unforgivable!

Brimming with rage, Cao Zirui automatically took a step forward, intending to confront that person. But he realized after that single step that in his current state, he was no match for the opponent.

He didn’t continue forward, but that one step had already been taken.

The sole of his boot made a soft sound where it scuffed the earth.

Though faint, the sound echoed in the confined space, and hearing it inevitably diverted a fraction of everyone’s focused attention.

This was their chance!

The two masked men struck simultaneously. Their movements were as swift as tigers pouncing upon their prey, so fast that they were a blur, and all one was able to perceive were the successive clangs of their swords clashing.

In the blink of an eye, they exchanged more than a dozen lethal moves.

Neither side held back. This wasn’t a sparring match, but a fight to the death!

Their swords danced in a dazzling display under the candlelight as the two opponents sought openings and launched attacks. Their movements were already too swift for the naked eye to track, and the speed, power, and even the angles of their strikes represented the absolute limits of the human physique.

The iron longswords in their hands seemed as if they were organs inherent to the human body. The two wielded them with effortless precision, as if they were an extension of their own arms.

Fang Yang watched with wide, astonished eyes as the two of them exchanged moves. During the martial arts tournament before the Floating Island Secret Realm, he had already realized that although his Useless Shixiong’s cultivation was abysmal, his swordsmanship far surpassed that of the average person.

But that was the extent of it. Although Feng Ye had demonstrated an exceptional mastery of swordsmanship when facing off against Lu Chengye, there was nothing else particularly remarkable about his performance, and the sword moves he utilized were very basic.

That was not the case now. He struck from angles that Fang Yang had thought were impossible. As a sword cultivator himself, Fang Yang watched them exchange blows and found himself imagining what it would be like if he was part of the fight.

He might…..not even be able to block one strike.

Before watching Feng Ye wield his sword, it had never crossed his mind that the weapon could be used in such a manner, and naturally had no idea how to defend against it.

Feng Ye’s swordsmanship was crafty and unpredictable, at times fierce and forceful, and at others smooth and fluid. He was able to shift seamlessly between a number of swordsmanship styles, and concealed within these feints and stratagems were lethal strikes meant to kill.

His Useless Shixiong…..was a true master of swordsmanship.

Fang Yang thought this in stunned silence. Then he suddenly realized: his Useless Shixiong was already this formidable, and judging by his swordsmanship alone, there was perhaps not a second person in the world who could match him. Yet this Rakshasa that had appeared out of nowhere was actually able to fight Feng Ye on equal footing, refusing to yield even an inch?

Could it be that sword-fighting prodigies were now everywhere under the sky?

Of course not. 

Cao Zirui was also watching the fight in shock, though his disbelief came from a different source. He wasn’t affected by the mastery of swordsmanship on both sides, but that Rakshasa’s moves…..seemed vaguely familiar.

No, they didn’t just seem familiar. They truly were. After repeated verification, Cao Zirui was entirely certain that this was Lingxiao Swordsmanship, a technique created by Ling Yun, the sect leader of Lingxiao Sword Sect one hundred years ago.

In this world, there should be nobody other than Cao Zirui himself who knew this sword technique. Not even his master, Ji Chengyue, was able to use it.

Ling Yun himself was the only exception.

But it was impossible. Ling Yun was already…..

Was he really dead? Cao Zirui came to the sudden realization that although the world at large believed that Ling Yun had perished in the heavenly fire, nobody had ever actually seen his corpse.

Could the person standing before him truly be…..

Cao Zirui was filled with shock and uncertainty, but found himself inwardly dismissing the notion. If this person was really Ling Yun, what possible reason could he have for turning his sword against them?

He was Ji Chengyue’s disciple, while Ling Yun was Ji Chengyue’s shixiong. Strictly speaking, he should address Ling Yun as “Shishu.”

And Feng Ye was also a disciple of Lingxiao Sword Sect. Although his fighting skills were suspiciously impressive, he was also a member of the sect. As the former sect leader, why would Ling Yun turn against his own people?

This Rakshasa cannot be Ling Yun, Cao Zirui reasoned.

He was so lost in thought that he completely failed to notice that somewhere in the shadow beneath his feet, a wisp of black mist had at some point slipped inside to lurk.

That black mist transformed into a slender venomous snake, and while Feng Ye and his party were focused intently on the battle, it coiled itself silently and imperceptively around Cao Zirui’s ankle.

Its dark, misty form had no weight to it whatsoever, and Cao Zirui was oblivious to the danger.

The venomous snake coiled inexorably upward, winding its way up Cao Zirui’s thigh until it reached his waist.

Serpentine eyes briefly scanned the surroundings, then locked onto the small jar hanging from Cao Zirui’s waist by a rope.

Its jaws parted, and a forked tongue flickered out. The venomous snake’s maw curved in a smile as it coiled up in preparation to lunge for the jar.

Feng Ye, locked in battle with the Rakshasa, suddenly whipped his head around. In one swift motion, he hurled the sword in his hand while dodging backward to avoid an attack from his opponent.

But he knew there was no way to avoid it entirely.

His opponent’s formidable strength had taken him by surprise. This was not arrogance on his part, because in this world, there were very few people capable of engaging him in a prolonged fight without yielding even an inch.

And now, there was this man in front of him.

In fact, Feng Ye even felt a hint of pressure under his opponent’s onslaught. But rather than making him pull back, the stronger his opponent fought, the fiercer his fighting spirit burned!

Yet even as his fighting spirit soared to new heights, he was forced to summon every shred of his energy for this battle. Because should his focus waver for even an instant, even the title “God of War” wouldn’t save him from defeat.

Defeat at the hands of a mortal.

But at this moment, he had no choice but to divert his attention. He absolutely could not allow that black snake to leave here with Jianmu!

His blade struck true, slamming into the black snake just as it attempted to slither into the jar. The passing of the blade also severed the rope that Cao Zirui had tied around the vessel.

The jar crashed to the ground, and amidst the crisp shattering of porcelain, a small handful of soil was laid bare before everyone’s eyes, along with the tender young seedling nested within it…..

The Jianmu seedling.

But there was another sound in addition to the shattering porcelain.

Feng Ye had left himself wide open after hurling the sword, his front completely exposed. And although he had dodged at just the right moment, his opponent would never allow such an opportunity to slip through his fingers. The blade of his sword thrust straight toward Feng Ye’s face.

Hao Chen had instinctively glanced toward the shattered jar before snapping his head back around to watch Feng Ye.

Feng Ye staggered back several steps. A distinct crack had appeared on the mask covering his face where the sword had sliced it.

The damaged ghost mask peeled away to reveal that familiar face.

Hao Chen breathed a sigh of relief. Everything was fine as long as his face wasn’t disfigured. Although this face wasn’t Feng Ye’s original one, after looking at it for so long, it would truly break his heart for it to be ruined by a scar.

Rather than attacking again, the Rakshasa remained in place, staring at Feng Ye across the distance.

Feng Ye also made no further moves after steadying himself. Out of the corner of his eye, he glanced toward Jianmu and the sword he had just thrown.

The previously violent scene fell into silence once more.

It was only when Feng Ye hurled the sword at him that Cao Zirui realized with a jolt that an unwelcome intruder had somehow latched onto his waist, and he had nearly lost Jianmu to the black serpent.

Lingering tremors of shock rippled through his heart, and he took a moment to compose himself before realizing that Jianmu was still lying on the ground. He crouched down, reaching to pick up the seedling.

Cao Zirui’s movement shattered the stillness once more, and the instant he bent down, the Rakshasa attacked.

But this time, Feng Ye was unarmed.

With no time to think, Fang Yang spared no thought for the actual situation at hand or what that seedling might be, but simply snatched up the sword on the ground and shouted toward Feng Ye: “Shixiong, catch!”

Then he hurled the sword back to him.

Despite the somewhat imprecise trajectory of his throw, Feng Ye still managed to catch it. The instant the hilt landed in his grasp, he flipped it in one fluid motion and positioned the blade just in time to parry the sword arcing toward him.

After the parry, he exerted force in his shoulder and arm, sweeping aside the opponent’s blade to regain the initiative.

But the opponent was equally quick to react, constantly disrupting his offensive.

With no further distractions, they reverted to their previous state, trading blows back and forth with neither of them gaining the upper hand.

But as he watched this scene, Hao Chen narrowed his eyes.

At first, seeing that cold and ruthless look on Feng Ye’s face had made him think he had lost his sanity. Only later did he realize that this was not the case.

Feng Ye’s unleashed killing intent was solely aimed at this enemy who had not yet been dealt with.

This Rakshasa who had emerged from the Path of the Underworld.

He didn’t seem to be an incarnation of the serpent god, but more like one of his subordinates, or perhaps an accomplice.

The Rakshasa also seemed quite powerful, and could actually fight Feng Ye to a complete standstill. Yet even so, Hao Chen showed no signs of intervening.

For one thing, he had faith in Feng Ye and believed that he would emerge victorious. For another, when powerhouses clashed, if victory was achieved with the help of outside interference, there was no integrity in such a win. He imagined that Feng Ye would hate that.

Thus, Hao Chen kept his distance and didn’t step in to assist him.

However, there was also that black snake that had struck while Feng Ye was engaged in battle. It hadn’t entered the fight, but it had still succeeded in diverting Feng Ye’s attention and forcing him to throw his sword in a desperate attempt to help Cao Zirui.

It was precisely for this reason that Feng Ye had been struck by his opponent and had his mask shattered.

With a sharp swish, Hao Chen snapped his fan shut. This was now a two-against-one situation, so how could he possibly allow anyone to bully his dragon?

Hao Chen quietly shifted his position. When he found the right angle, he put his hands behind his back and drew out a pearl.

Then, in the brief interval when Feng Ye and the Rakshasa momentarily separated, he threw the pearl at the enemy without warning.

The man in the ghost mask sensed something approaching him, and despite not knowing what it was, he instinctively moved his sword to parry the sneak attack.

The sharp blade sliced straight through the pearl and severed it in two, but as he moved, he also completely exposed his undefended back to Feng Ye.

There was no room for distraction in the heat of battle. Feng Ye completely ignored Hao Chen’s movements, all of his focus and energy fixed upon the Rakshasa.

When he saw that the enemy’s back was exposed, Feng Ye didn’t think twice before raising his sword and thrusting it toward the other’s heart.

This was a lethal killing blow, with no chance of survival.

The sword’s tip pierced through the opponent’s clothes without a shred of resistance and continued forward straight through his chest.

The man in the ghost mask was impaled upon Feng Ye’s sword.

Fang Yang and the others were overjoyed, and believed Feng Ye had won.

Yet there was not the slightest trace of victory on Feng Ye’s face. Instead, his eyes widened as he stared in disbelief at the man whose heart he had just pierced.

The sensation of the blade slicing through fabric had transmitted to his hand through the body of the sword, yet he didn’t feel the characteristic drag of iron piercing through flesh.

The place where the other’s heart should be…..was empty…..

The man cast his gaze back toward Feng Ye.

Feng Ye stared blankly into the man’s eyes. In them he saw a pool of pitch-black, stagnant water, and beneath it, resentment like a tsunami that surged forth the moment this person laid eyes on him.

This person was…..

The name of this person had not yet surfaced in Feng Ye’s mind when he saw the blade thrusting toward him in a counterattack.

Since this person had no heart, piercing his chest hadn’t hurt him at all.

Feng Ye abruptly swung his sword. Heedless of the risk, he dodged the opponent’s attack and recklessly slashed at the ghost mask facing him.

After the exchange of blows, both sides took a few steps back.

Feng Ye’s arm bore a gash about an inch long, while the Rakshasa clutched at his face.

Fragments of the mask fell in a steady stream from his palm. As Feng Ye stared intently at the face revealed beneath the shattered mask, his grip on his sword slackened.

Ling Yun…..

Feng Ye finally uttered that name in the depths of his heart.

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