Ch. 117 – Standoff
“Shixiong…..” Fang Yang called out with some trepidation, staring in the direction of the black mist.
His Useless Shixiong had actually gone and challenged Ling Yun. Even though Fang Yang knew that he shouldn’t praise the enemy, Ling Yun was truly formidable, ah. He had been a figure above all others a century ago, surpassing everyone else in swordsmanship and in cultivation.
Could his Useless Shixiong really defeat someone that strong?…..Fang Yang couldn’t help but worry. But his voice was unable to penetrate that barrier, and there was no way to see through it.
Just as he was worrying, he felt a weight on his shoulder. Turning his head, he found Hao-dage giving him a comforting pat.
He was doing the same to Cao Zirui, and he instructed the two youths who were standing there foolishly: “Stop watching, it’s no use. Go and dig up all of the Living Soil.”
“But Shixiong…..” Fang Yang knew that Hao Chen’s reasoning was sound, but there was still some anxiety in his voice.
“Feng-shixiong…..he’ll be okay, won’t he?” Cao Zirui asked.
The four of them generally looked to Feng Ye as the pillar of their group, but Feng Ye wasn’t available. Hao Chen’s cultivation was pitiful, but he was, after all, a bit older than them.
So at this moment, the two youths looked up at Hao Chen together, hoping to find some comfort in him.
Hao Chen looked left and right, then dropped the haughty expression on his face and solemnly promised: “He’ll be fine. I won’t let anything happen to him.”
The enemy in front of them was formidable, and given Hao Chen’s apparent strength, such a statement seemed to be a grave overestimation of his abilities. But inexplicably, Fang Yang and Cao Zirui felt their suspended hearts begin to settle somewhat.
They exchanged a glance. Then, setting aside their pointless worrying, they turned and devoted all of their focus to digging up the Living Soil.
Hao Chen stood where he was, holding his fan. His eyes narrowed as he looked in the direction of the black mist.
Since Feng Ye was the one to propose that he duel Ling Yun without any spiritual power, he would respect his decision and not make the first move.
However…..if he didn’t make a move, wouldn’t that black snake try some sort of underhanded trick?
As of now, the black snake had simply transformed into a barrier to prevent outside interference, and had indeed claimed that he wouldn’t involve himself.
But what credibility did a creature like that have? Lies and deception made up the very essence of such a thing. Hao Chen didn’t believe a single word out of that black snake’s mouth. He would have to stay close in order to prevent a sneak attack on Feng Ye.
But he was also unable to enter the barrier. After all, the two boys were still out here, and so were Jianmu and the Living Soil, which were of utmost importance.
If he left them behind, he might very well become the tiger being lured away from its mountain.
He needed to keep an eye on both sides. An ordinary person might not be able to be in two places at once, but he was no such person.
Out of sight of Fang Yang and Cao Zirui, a feather drifted out from Hao Chen’s sleeve. Before it could touch the ground, the feather transformed into a crow as black as night, which spread its wings and took off into the wind.
The barrier formed by the black mist was tens of meters long on all sides, completely impenetrable, blocking both sight and sound.
It did not, however, have a ceiling. After flying upward only a few dozen meters, the black crow successfully flew in through the unobstructed top.
Although the light was dim, he had previously dispersed the clouds obscuring the moon, and could just barely make out the scene below in the moonlight.
Feng Ye and Ling Yun stood facing each other with a little over ten meters between them. Both gripped the hilts of their swords, but the battle had yet to begin.
The crow found a tree and perched on a branch. As he cast his gaze around to guard against a sneak attack by the black snake, he secretly eavesdropped on the conversation between Feng Ye and Ling Yun.
Ling Yun’s hand opened and closed around the hilt of his sword as he examined it. It was of the most ordinary make, lacking any patterns or ornamentation.
Yet despite how unremarkable the blade was, he felt a long-lost sense of familiarity. Once upon a time, he had possessed a sword just like this one.
A sword was indispensable to a sword cultivator. He had wielded countless precious swords of every tier, and Mountain Breaker, that heaven-grade spiritual weapon passed down through the generations of Lingxiao Sword Sect, had once been his personal sword.
Of all the swords that had entered his hands, this iron sword that was issued to every member of Lingxiao Sword Sect was by far the most ordinary. Yet strangely enough, none of the other swords had made as deep of an impression on him as this one.
Because this was the sword he’d wielded when he got his first glimpse of the sword dao. The very first sword he’d ever had.
This battle would perhaps be the most difficult one he would ever face. His opponent was incomparably powerful. He had so easily laid waste to everything Ling Yun had painstakingly built one hundred years ago, while Ling Yun himself stood on the ground, gazing upward at that god amidst the clouds, helpless to resist.
He was using the most ordinary of swords to face the strongest of enemies. At this thought, Ling Yun suddenly had the slight urge to smile.
It had been a very long time since he’d done that. Just like the night before, the muscles in his face strained to form an unsightly, eerie smile.
He also hadn’t conversed with someone in a very long time. His body hadn’t perished in the heavenly fire, but his soul had been burned to ashes. He was as cold and lifeless as a pool of stagnant water.
Everything he had gone through over the past hundred years had left him unable to feel joy or sorrow. He didn’t care about anything anymore. His sect, his shidi….all of it could be cast aside.
All except for one thing – revenge.
His soul, reduced to ashes, was born anew amidst the flames of hatred, igniting that pool of stagnant water.
He called across to Feng Ye: “Oh god, you were once so high and mighty, unable to tolerate even a grain of sand in your eye. Someone as insignificant as me probably never caught your notice.”
Ling Yun spoke to him using honorifics, but there wasn’t the slightest hint of respect in his voice. Instead, there was a frenzied madness, a release of long-suppressed emotions that finally had somewhere to vent.
Ling Yun pointed the tip of his sword at Feng Ye: “But now, you’re actually willing to lower yourself to my level and face me using only human strength. Why is that?”
Despite asking this question, he didn’t actually expect to get an answer from Feng Ye.
He tilted his head and answered the question himself: “It’s because you feel guilty. Seeing the blameless victim you once killed appear before your eyes, you want to make amends.”
He fixed a glare on Feng Ye, then snapped a rebuke in his hoarse voice: “Such….hypocrisy!”
When he spat those two words between gritted teeth, they sounded as if he had gnashed them to shreds a thousand times, his broken tone carrying all of the hatred engraved into his heart.
Feng Ye’s brow twitched almost imperceptibly, but his expression didn’t change in the face of Ling Yun’s rebuke.
“Guilt?” Feng Ye repeated, then denied it: “I feel no guilt toward you.”
“I also didn’t do anything wrong.” Feng Ye looked straight into those raging, hateful eyes, and spoke each word with clarity.
This answer surprised both Ling Yun and the crow up in the tree. Hao Chen had always assumed that the dragon would take the events of one hundred years ago to heart and blame himself for it, but that didn’t seem to be the case.
Guilt stemmed from committing a transgression, but he had done nothing wrong. Feng Ye was very clear on this point. What would have happened had he not severed Jianmu? Would those climbing the great tree have survived?
No, they would not. Jianmu had already become a ladder for resentful creatures to ascend to the heavens. They were merely using the humans as a cover, and once those demons set foot in the heavens, those humans would become useless trash to them.
And how should trash be dealt with? It should be casually tossed aside or used as something to whet their appetite before the slaughter in the heavenly realm commenced.
To this day, Feng Ye had never regretted his decision. Ling Yun was not wrong to plant Jianmu, and Feng Ye was not wrong to cut it down.
His attitude toward Ling Yun was complex.
He admired this human’s aspirations, and acknowledged everything Ling Yun had sacrificed in order to cultivate Jianmu – even his very heart. And as for Ling Yun’s ultimate end, he felt regret and sorrow. Regret for his death, and sorrow that…..he was unable to save everyone.
Due to this combination of emotions, he had proposed this method to confront Ling Yun in order to give him a fair fight. But amongst everything he was feeling, guilt was not a factor.
Feng Ye’s answer was like a splash of hot oil poured onto Ling Yun’s fury. His anger was out of control, but he no longer wore the half-mad look from before. His tone was mocking: “That’s right. To you, there is naturally nothing wrong with killing a mere handful of humans, nor destroying my life’s work.”
“Your life’s work? Your life’s work was to connect Jianmu to the Emberless Horizon, turning it into a ladder for demons to ascend to the heavens, a calamity unto both the heavenly and mortal realms?!” Feng Ye snapped back.
He wasn’t certain whether Ling Yun was aware of the truth of the events back then, and by saying this, he was sounding him out.
This was the first time Hao Chen had heard Feng Ye speak the truth of the matter, and although he had long had suspicions, he didn’t know the specific details. Just as he thought, there was indeed more to the story of Yinglong severing Jianmu one hundred years ago. The crow was impressed with his own cleverness, and ruffled his feathers smugly while watching with focused attention.
The conversation between Feng Ye and Ling Yun was hugely informative, taking up all of his focus. For this reason, he didn’t notice the black snake slowly and cautiously slithering its way up the branch toward him.
As the black snake drew closer, Feng Ye and Ling Yun continued to talk.
Hao Chen was astonished by this revelation, but Ling Yun revealed no surprise at all. On the contrary, he didn’t even seem to care: “So what?”
Feng Ye’s expression sank: “You knew back then that Jianmu would connect to the Emberless Horizon?”
Judging from Ling Yun’s lack of surprise, he was certainly aware of the truth, and his uncaring expression made it likely that he had known everything a century ago.
But unexpectedly, Ling Yun denied it: “I didn’t know back then.”
Feng Ye stared: “Then why are you…..”
Why this attitude of indifference?
Before Feng Ye could finish his sentence, Ling Yun cut in and said as a matter of course: “So what if a passage to the Emberless Horizon was opened? So what if there was slaughter in the heavens, if the people of the mortal realm were plunged into suffering and bloodshed?”
A low, hoarse chuckle suddenly escaped his throat: “That is exactly what I’m hoping for.”
Feng Ye was stunned speechless, and stared at Ling Yun in disbelief. How could this former sect leader of Lingxiao Sword Sect…..have such sadistic thoughts?
Had even his close friends, family, and disciples failed to notice the madness within him?
No, it wasn’t that they failed to notice. Feng Ye immediately dismissed his own doubts. No matter how well a person might disguise himself, it was impossible to maintain such a convincing act. The admittedly arrogant Ling Yun of a century ago, who patiently and tirelessly instructed his disciples, had not been putting on an act.
He had simply changed.
A century wasn’t particularly long, but it was long enough for a great many things to change, including the naturally volatile human heart.
His experiences over this century were unknown, but he no longer cared about the people and ideals he used to treasure.
He would stop at nothing to carry out his revenge, including working with a monster and turning against his former sect.
It was as if he had truly transformed into that Rakshasa, crawling out of the underworld solely for the sake of vengeance.
Feng Ye stared at this person who was so consumed by hatred. He wanted to inquire further, to find out how Ling Yun had become this way.
But Ling Yun had no desire to waste his words on him. He could hardly wait to trample this once high and mighty god underfoot, to shatter his arrogance, just as Ling Yun’s had been shattered one hundred years ago.
In a flash, he was already in front of Feng Ye. Even without the use of spiritual power, his natural speed and strength were already at the pinnacle of human capability.
His sword struck like a flash of lightning, only its blurred afterimage visible to the eye.
His opening move was a breathtaking and decisive killing blow. Feng Ye held his sword in front of him horizontally, and reacted in a split second to detect a weak point in Ling Yun’s attack and block it.
Amidst the ringing clash of swords, the black snake finally closed to within half a meter of the crow. But the crow remained huddled up in a ball, watching the fight below with rapt attention and unaware of the nearby danger.
The black snake stopped his careful slithering and reared back. His muscles coiled beneath his scales like a bowstring pulled taut – and then he lunged at the crow without warning.
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Chapter 116 << Table of Contents >> Chapter 118
