Deep within the Wuyi Mountains sprawled a walled settlement, the majestic scenery of untamed mountain wilderness supplemented by lavish and colorful architecture. As the spring day drew to a close, the Wuyi Sect was tinted in shades of vermilion. Two tired men in black and red stood guard at the entrance of the sect, chatting idly about trifle matters.
Their conversation abruptly came to an end when they noticed a dark silhouette at the edge of the mountain road. As the two guards observed the unidentified man, they found themselves growing nervous. The speed with which he was approaching boggled the mind. The distance between them was shortening rapidly.
"Stop!" One of them shouted as he drew his short sword. This had startled the other into drawing his blade as well. "This is the territory of the Wuyi Sect!"
But not only had the black figure not stopped, the guard could have sworn that it sped up even more. The distance between them had already dwindled next to nothing. The guard turned around and was about to shout again, but a sharp whistle cut through the air. A rock struck the man squarely into his temple, and he crumpled to the ground.
The guard''s fellow couldn''t help but spare a stray glance to the fate of his unfortunate comrade in arms. He screamed out in alarm, desperation, and fury all at once, and stepped forward to thrust his sword at the rapidly approaching Desolator of Life.
The man clad in black twisted his body. The short blade harmlessly flew past his shoulder. The Desolator of Life''s sword decapitated the man with a single flick of the wrist. Before the man''s head touched the ground, the invader had already gone through the gate.
The alarm was raised. Members of the Wuyi Sect swarmed the Desolator of Life. Their signature short swords could not stop his mad dash, only slow it down. The unceasing cacophony of steel clashing with steel, of one sword clashing against many, was supplemented by the sounds of sliced flesh, of spilled blood, and anguished screaming.
The resistance was thinning out. Although none dared to outright flee, the younger members remained at a distance, hesitant to engage outright. Those with the skills for it showered the intruder with large needles, but they, too, crashed uselessly against his sword like raindrops bouncing off roof tiles.
Even those with seniority began to falter, for they realized that the Desolator of Life would not target those who kept out of his way, and the temptation to preserve one''s life wreaked havoc on their will to continue fighting.
But everything changed when they realized that even those who stayed away would not be spared. Even those who stayed well beyond the reach of his sword fell to the ground, wracked by sudden bouts of agony.
"Poison!" Someone screamed. Panic spread throughout the already flimsy ranks, and while still no one dared to retreat completely, no one dared to approach, either. But even this was not enough, for people continued to die.
"How is he doing this?!" They yelled, and the gap of their encirclement continued to widen.
Suddenly, The Desolator of Life bellowed. "Deng Hong!" His shout, elevated by his vast internal energy, carried across the mountain range.
The sect members clenched their teeth. "We can''t let him get to the sect master! We need to stop him!" With newfound resolve, they braced themselves to jump back into the fray.
Another voice, elderly, calm, yet easily audible across the entire settlement, had interrupted them. "Stand at least 20 meters away from this man. I will take care of this."
The sect members heeded the order immediately, dispersing.
At the end of the street stood a robust grey haired man in robes of blue and white, his hands behind his back.
"Senior Investigator Long Delun!" Someone in the crowd shouted in surprise.
The Desolator of Life stopped in his tracks. He had instantly recognized the new arrival as a member of the Jianghu Investigative Bureau by his uniform and the distinctive crest on his shoulder, yet regarded him with the same disdain as the rest of the sect, for his presence here alone betrayed his cooperation with the Wuyi Sect. "This does not concern you or your organization, old man. Stay out of my way and no one will blame you."
"Your inhumane killing method is of concern to the entire Jianghu. Do you know what we''ve taken to calling you?"
"I don''t care."
"The responsibility of disposing of a monster such as yourself falls not only on the Wuyi Sect, but on every man who considers himself to be of righteous demeanor." Long Delun brought his large hands into view and drew his sword.
"I don''t want to hear one of Deng Hong''s cronies talk about righteousness." He spat out in response. "You know as well as anyone else here that the moment you take a step forward, you''re dead."
"Poison won''t kill me so easily, not even yours. I will have enough time to put an end to you."
"And then you will still die!" The Desolator of Life suddenly lost his composure, his brow creasing in fury.
"What value does my life have at my age?" The tone of the old man''s voice seemed to regard the matter with the utmost triviality. "It has never been my intention to live this long in the first place."
The Desolator of Life clutched his sword until his white knuckles grew even paler. The thought that this old man really meant what he said, and was about to die not for the treacherous Deng Hong, but out of a misguided pursuit of justice, infuriated him greatly.
In his frustration, he had ceded the initiative. Long Delun lunged forward, and crossed the distance between them in two steps.
The clash of their swords was like thunder. The Desolator of Life was forced to step back just to endure the blow. The old man towered over him, and yet when he drew back his sword, the dexterity of his massive arms was such that there was scarcely a moment for one to lay an eye on the steel before it would disappear again, flashing like a bolt of lightning towards its target. And lightning struck lightning as the Desolator of Life parried the blow.
Their battle was indeed like a great cloudless storm erupting in the middle of the mountains.
The bell hanging off the Desolator of Life''s sword did not impede his swordsmanship, but neither was it being used for any apparent purpose. Suspicion glinted in Long Delun''s eye, and his swordsmanship began to subtly change, his strokes and feints guiding the enemy''s blade in different directions. The Desolator of Life was almost immediately privy to the shift in the old investigator''s strategy, but they were so evenly matched that opposing Long Delun''s adjustments would put him at great risk.
While the man in black was no stranger to gambling with his life, he was no fool either; his victory was already all but assured if he simply bided his time.The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
Veins bulged out on Long Delun''s forehead. The old man''s face was beet red. Heat radiated from his skin as he mustered up every last bit of his internal energy to fight both the Desolator of Life''s sword and the invisible poison wracking his body.
The Desolator of Life was waiting for the strain to open up an opportunity for a decisive strike, but no matter how many blows he deflected, no matter how many feints he threw out, no such chance was presenting itself.
Long Delun would not allow his bodily suffering to hinder the integrity of his stances. His nerves, sturdy as the steel he held in his hand, would not be overcome by panic or impatience. He relentlessly and wordlessly goaded his opponent into following his rhythm.
The Desolator of Life realized that he had made a mistake. Upon deflecting another one of Long Delun''s strikes, the small chain on the hilt of his sword rattled and brought the bell forward.
Long Delun swung with all his might, abandoning all pretenses at self-preservation. The Desolator of Life almost instinctively lunged at this opening.
The old man was stabbed through the chest. The chain snapped, and the bell fell to the ground.
As if oblivious to his own demise, Long Delun struck again. The tip of his blade went through the iron bell as if it was made of paper, and then sunk deep into the paved stone tiles. A wisp of white smoke seeped through the gaps in the pierced metal.
The Desolator of Life gritted his teeth in frustration. The old investigator coughed up blood; it almost sounded like a chuckle.
"I thought to myself, what kind of a bell doesn''t ring?" Long Delun strained to get the words out. Dark blood stained his clothes and dripped to the ground. "But it was an incense burner..."
"Well done." The Desolator of Life bitterly praised his foe. He pulled out his sword and stepped away. Long Delun tried to remain standing, and for a few precious seconds, with a hole in his heart, he had managed to achieve just that. But then, he fell.
The crowd gasped. "Senior Investigator Long!"
The Desolator of Life walked forward.
"The poison was in that bell! He can''t use it anymore!" Even as the sect members had said so, they hesitated to approach the ruthless killer before them.
Another voice boomed across the sect.
"To think that the so called Desolator of Life would turn out to be Cui Shen."
The Desolator of Life''s eyes widened. The crowd parted to make way for the man whose soft voice reverberated across the mountains, their postures respectful and their eyes downcast in shame.
The man was tall and slim, his black hair tied back into a long ponytail. His sharp features would have made him stand out from the crowd even had it not been for the authority he unambiguously possessed and wielded like an unsheathed blade. He looked down his nose at the Desolator of Life, and he had done so with insidious derision; his glare must have been cultivated with decades of perpetual arrogance and casual contempt.
"How long has it been, Cui Shen? About five years, was it? My, how you''ve grown." When the man spoke, it was though every word was coated in a veneer of sarcasm.
"Deng Hong...!" The malice contained in Cui Shen''s voice seemed as though it could grind down stone.
"Are you surprised that I still remember you?" Deng Hong asked, seemingly on the verge of laughter. "It''s not often that you see a man abandon his woman so shamelessly."
Cui Shen charged him with a roar. The sect members stepped forward to defend their master, but the man spoke again. "Stay out of this."
Cui Shen swung his weapon like a man possessed. Deng Hong weaved around the strokes without much urgency, as though he was being pushed about by a light breeze, and avoided each strike.
Moreover, he continued to speak. "With that being said, you might be surprised to hear that I don''t remember your woman''s name. I suppose after all these years I don''t think much of them anymore. But I do recall that your woman in particular was a most delectable morsel."
Cui Shen''s next strike came with such vigor that even Deng Hong could not avoid it. His hand darted to his belt and drew out a short sword. Sparks flew as steel collided.
"It took you five years for you to come up with that poison of yours? A clown''s trick." Deng Hong smirked. "For one seeking revenge, time is of the essence, you little fool. What would you have done if I had died during all those years? You would have become the laughing stock of this world and the next."
Their swords clashed again, and they pressed against each other, coming up face to face. Upon taking a closer look at his opponent''s features, Deng Hong said, "You''re paler than I remember. Was that the price you paid for your training? Lucky for you. Perhaps you would have taken fifty more years if you hadn''t forcefully stripped yourself of your available time."
Deng Hong pushed Cui Shen back, laughing. "But I''m glad you returned! I truly am. I''ve been more amused in these scant few minutes than I''ve been in months. However, that''s enough of that."
All the playfulness left Deng Hong''s features. He struck out with his short sword, and Cui Shen scrambled to parry. His defense was successful, but he was forced back. As Deng Hong made to strike again, Cui Shen backed away even farther. He was not pursued.
Deng Hong drew a long breath. Suddenly, a strange chill descended over the street. Cui Shen felt an indescribable pressure stiffen his body.
"What is this?" The question involuntarily slipped past Cui Shen''s lips. He had never felt anything like it before. Black veins began to bulge out of Deng Hong''s skin.
"What is this, you ask? You see, even a rabbit can sense its imminent demise. That''s what you''re feeling now." Deng Hong sheathed his short sword. He waved his black sleeve and assumed a stance. "There are no women around to save you this time, Cui Shen."
When Deng Hong moved, Cui Shen had not even recognized it as movement. But what his eyes couldn''t see, his instinct could sense. Cui Shen tilted his body, placing the tip of his sword in the path of Deng Hong''s fingers.
The gap between their abilities was so vast that Cui Shen''s sword had no hope of reaching his foe even while the latter was in the midst of an attack. Deng Hong was, however, forced to make a slight concession. His blackened fingers narrowly missed the vital acupressure point in Cui Shen''s chest by about an inch, and the strike landed closer towards the shoulder.
Cui Shen hopped back, wildly slashing with his sword in hopes of preventing a pursuit. But Deng Hong wasn''t chasing him.
Cui Shen''s vision rapidly began to darken. An excruciating pain wracked his body, as though lava flowed through his veins and arteries. Just holding onto his sword became a torturous affair. As he vomited blood, he heard Deng Hong''s voice.
"My mastery of the Soul Plundering Finger has reached a point where it brings certain death even without striking a pressure point."
With his fading senses, Cui Shen just barely felt Deng Hong''s approach. His free hand darted into his pocket, and he violently threw out a small object to the ground. With a bang, gray smoke erupted. Deng Hong, with a swift step away, was out of its reach before it had even fully dispersed.
As the observers backed away, someone in the crowd exclaimed, "Poison?!"
Farther back, more voices erupted. "He''s getting away! Capture him! Without his invisible poison, he''s no threat to us!"
Deng Hong stuck his nose in the air and backed away from the smoke cloud, heading back to whence he came. Most of the disciples ran after Cui Shen, while some remained to tend to the wounds of others.
An older disciple approached him, confused. "Master, what about Cui Shen?"
The sect master''s reply was dismissive. "Chasing a dead man through the wilderness at night is beneath my dignity as a sect master. Let the young ones amuse themselves with the chase. They might catch him before he dies from my technique, and get some satisfaction for those he''s killed. Regardless, he''ll be dead in minutes."
"But what about the disciples suffering from poison? Surely he has an antidote on him, we may be able to save a few."
Deng Hong gave the disciple with a derisive look. "You haven''t caught on yet, have you? There is no antidote. He must have somehow made himself immune to his own poison. That''s why he looks like a dead man walking. Whatever he put himself through to achieve that must have wreaked havoc on his body." He continued on his way.
The disciple bowed and followed. He found his master''s arrogance to be reassuring.
The sun had set. The Wuyi Sect''s disciples chased Cui Shen through the dark. The mountainous terrain was treacherous, but it was their home ground, and only the least experienced among them were in danger from it.
Although at death''s door, Cui Shen was initially faster than his pursuers. But his body was rapidly deteriorating, and the disciples were gaining on him. He could not navigate through the darkness with his diminished senses, and tumbled down a steep slope.
His consciousness faded in and out on his way down. After reaching the bottom, he could faintly make out a man''s silhouette standing over him. Distant, dim light illuminated his black and red uniform. To Cui Shen, his voice came out muffled even as he shouted at the top of his lungs.
"He used his invisible poison! Help me!" The man then began to scream in agony.
A reply came from beyond Cui Shen''s vision, more indistinct shouting that was no more audible to him than a mumble. "He still had it?! Get back, get back! Stop the pursuit! Let''s return to the sect master!"
And then the voices faded.
...