Chapter 270: Falling into the Reflection of the Setting Sun
The final moment had arrived. There was no point in hiding any more trump cards. Chen Changsheng did not hesitate to sit in self-observation and ignite the last remnant of the snowfield. www.xstxt.org
Yet, for some reason, he did not let his spiritual sense touch the lake outside the Nether Mansion.
The snowfield instantly burned fiercely, continuously replenishing his true essence.
Yashi Steps moved.
His figure abruptly vanished before the forest, reappearing in the distance, then vanishing again, appearing again, flickering in and out of sight like a ghost or smoke.
But that streak of flowing light was far too fast. No matter where he appeared, the next moment, he would meet that streak of light head-on.
The sound of a sword tip piercing the air rang out incessantly. The wind by the lake and the sound of waves from the water were sliced into countless fragments.
Blood splattered through the air from time to time, like flowers. Yet when the blood blossoms fell to the ground, the fighters from moments ago had already appeared dozens of yards away.
Those blood blossoms were sometimes green, sometimes red.
After bathing in dragon blood, Chen Changsheng’s body was indeed incredibly powerful. Even after fighting this long, there were still no wounds on his surface. However, despite the protection of the yellow paper umbrella, he had been struck several times by the two women’s highly toxic peacock feathers. That sinister and chilling force pierced through his skin, deep into his internal organs, causing extremely severe internal injuries. Twice he nearly spat blood, but he forced it back down.
But this time, he attempted a risky move, channeling all his true essence into the sword, leaving a gap in the yellow paper umbrella’s defense. He took a heavy blow and could no longer fully suppress it. A very thin stream of blood trickled from the corner of his mouth.
He no longer had the strength to grip the umbrella handle. The yellow paper umbrella lost its purpose. He didn’t want to leave such a precious artifact to the enemy. With a slight movement of his mind, a series of fine metallic clashing and grinding sounds were heard. The yellow paper umbrella instantly folded, reverting to its original scaly metal ball, then vanished into his palm.
He no longer flipped his wrist to hold the sword, but simply carried it casually, looking like a youth carrying wine home for the adults to drink.
The sun grew lower and lower, and the temperature dropped more and more. The afterglow of the setting sun from the distant prairie brought the lake its final warmth, gave the wind its last push, brushing against his face.
He took a handkerchief from his sleeve, carefully wiped away the blood trickling from the corner of his mouth, then put it away. That handkerchief also disappeared somewhere.
In that brief moment, the wind still had intimate contact with that blood, carrying away some of its scent.
It wasn’t the smell of blood, but a very strange scent.
Liang Xiaoxiao stood before the mountain forest, his sword held horizontally in strict vigilance, ready to prevent Chen Changsheng from using the Yashi Steps to flee into the woods, keeping a bit of distance.
Those two women were spirit witches, with very keen five senses, and they were right in front of Chen Changsheng, very close, so they smelled this scent.
It truly wasn’t the smell of blood, nor a sweet scent, nor the smell of raw iron in deep winter. It was… a fragrance.
This fragrance was faint, like an orchid in a deep valley, yet extremely fragrant, as if that orchid were right before their eyes.
That fragrance was the aura released by some crystalline fruit as it slowly ripened, or like the freshness of mountain wind blowing through a valley of pines all night, or like the salty steam rising from beach stones under the morning sun. This fragrance was incredibly complex, yet incredibly simple, mellow to the extreme, yet pure to the extreme.
Several years ago, on that night, this scent had made countless magical beings in the thick fog behind Xining Town restless.
A year ago, this scent had made the little girl next door to the National Academy climb over the wall.
Except for that night of the Destiny Star, this scent had not appeared on Chen Changsheng for a long time, not even when he bled during the Grand Examination battles, or when his flesh was mangled in the underground space. However, after that night of observing the stele at the Heavenly Book Mausoleum, this scent reappeared, in his blood.
The closer to nature, the more ethereal the life, the more they could smell this scent, and the more they couldn’t resist it, the more they wanted to get close.
Even Luoluo, with the bloodline talent of the White Emperor clan, had behaved that way. How could these two women, who were spirit bodies, possibly withstand it?
In an instant, they were drunk, entranced, as if they had returned to the sea of flowers where they were born.
The vibration of the light wings behind them gradually slowed, becoming incredibly soft and gentle, with no strength left at all, more like they were fanning the air.
Chen Changsheng didn’t understand what was happening, but he knew this was his last chance to escape.
Liang Xiaoxiao couldn’t smell that scent, so he was clear-headed and remained vigilant. He quickly noticed the strangeness by the lake. His expression turned stern, and his cold sword flew from his hand. The most majestic and strongest defensive technique of the Lishan Sword Art, the Iron Cliff Three Styles, was unleashed in succession, forming an insurmountable barrier between Chen Changsheng and the lake.
He hoped that by blocking him here, he could wait for the two women to return to normal.
He was very confident that no matter how well Chen Changsheng understood the Lishan Sword Art, or how unpredictable the Yashi Steps were, he couldn’t break through the Iron Cliff Three Styles in such a short time.
But Chen Changsheng didn’t use the Yashi Steps.
A great wind of swords rose by the lake, a great sword momentum surged!
The Wenshui Three Styles: Sunset Hanging!
He reversed the sword technique, using the sword as the person, the person as the sword, and directly hurled himself from the lakeside into the air.
At that moment, the setting sun was red and gorgeous, hanging in the western sky.
On the lake surface, which had become somewhat dark and deep, there was also a setting sun.
Chen Changsheng shot into the air, leaping over Liang Xiaoxiao’s sword momentum, flying high into the sky, then falling towards the lake.
He landed in the reflection of the setting sun on the lake!
Water splashed everywhere!
The two women snapped awake, their eyes still holding a trace of dazed confusion, not knowing what had just happened. The next moment, that dazed confusion turned entirely into fury!
They were finally about to kill that troublesome youth. How could they let him escape!
The light wings vibrated rapidly, and a painful buzzing sound echoed by the lake.
A streak of flowing light shot straight towards the center of the lake, then abruptly turned in the air and plunged into the water.
……
……
The sky had darkened. The reflection of the setting sun on the lake could not illuminate a very large area. The clear, transparent water of the day had now become somewhat murky, especially in the depths, which were a dark, ink-like mass, making it extremely difficult to see. Only then did a distant glimmer of light appear all the more striking.
Chen Changsheng kicked his legs, swimming desperately towards that glimmer of light. He remembered clearly that was the passage he and Zhexiu had come through.
But before he had swum even ten yards, a tremendous pressure came from the lake water behind him.
Without turning his head, he knew the two women had pursued him.
The light wings vibrated violently in the deep water, like two oars that would never tire, pulling the two women’s bodies forward, cutting a clear waterline as they shot towards him.
The lake water was churned into chaos, as if boiling.
Chen Changsheng knew he wouldn’t make it to that patch of light in time. He turned in the water, gripping the short sword again, kicking his legs rapidly to maintain a backstroke position, preparing for the enemy’s arrival.
Dim light scattered through the lake water. The two women, one completely naked, the other with her sword robe tightly wrapped around her, looked like two white fish. The light wings behind them illuminated the surrounding space, glowing with a deep blue light, very beautiful. Even at this moment, he couldn’t help but admire it.
That waterline kept extending forward, quickly reaching him.
Chen Changsheng thrust his sword forward. Unexpectedly, the woman with the dignified expression was truly enraged. She didn’t dodge or avoid, letting him stab his sword into her high, heaving chest, while her hands locked onto his like shackles. Almost at the same time, the other woman also entangled him—truly entangled him, her arms wrapping around his left arm, her firm legs twisting around his waist.
Those two light wings slowly closed, like a clam shell.
Chen Changsheng was sealed within the light wings, pressed tightly together with the two women.
If it weren’t a life-or-death struggle, “nestling” might be a better word to describe the scene at that moment.
Face to face.
They looked at each other’s faces, their features slightly distorted in the lake water.
The woman with the dignified expression had a cold, indifferent look.
The seductive woman’s eyes held a hint of teasing and apology.
The lake water grew darker and darker in the depths, and the lake bottom was even more so, like an abyss, like the night.
The night he was most unfamiliar with and least wanted to enter.
Only the light wings still emitted light.
In the icy lake water, falling into the night of death, Chen Changsheng’s vision grew blurry.
He knew he had to take the risk of doing that thing, or else, when his consciousness also blurred, it would be too late for regrets.
He already regretted letting the Black Dragon leave. Although it couldn’t help him fight, it might have had some other way in this lake.
Just then, he suddenly felt a sword intent.
That sword intent was very faint, but very fresh.
He remembered that before coming here, when he stood by that pool of water, he had also felt it.