Chapter 763: How to Subdue the Demon?
In the thick fog, countless sword lights suddenly flared up.
Chen Changsheng gazed at the mist that shrouded the surroundings, his left knee slightly bent, his right hand gripping the sword hilt at his waist, as if he would draw his blade in the next moment.
In truth, countless swords had already flowed forth from his tiger’s mouth and from within his robes, slashing in all directions. An immensely sharp sword intent filled the heavens and earth, and the already ruined courtyard was instantly sliced into countless fragments—whether the round stones at the lake bottom or the snow-covered forest. Yet the surrounding thick fog remained unbroken. The color of this mist had, at some unknown time, turned exceptionally deep, pitch-black like the night, incredibly dense, incredibly real, like the most viscous mud.
No matter how sharp and powerful the sword intent, once it fell into this black thick fog, it was like withered leaves sinking into muddy water—spinning, struggling, and then vanishing.
This black fog was no longer pure water vapor; it had become tainted with the purest demonic intent.
With a sharp clang, Chen Changsheng drew his short sword.
The spotless and bright blade, ignoring the terrifying and foul demonic intent, finally carved a breach in this demonic fog.
The black fog surged wildly, especially at the gap opened by the spotless sword, where countless streams of black mud seemed to gush forth endlessly.
From within the splashing black fog, a hand reached out, gripping a weapon shaped like a stone slab. Upon closer inspection, it looked like half a broken stele.
Compared to this weapon resembling a broken stele, the hand itself was far more terrifying.
—Even the tearing of space and Chen Changsheng’s immensely powerful sword intent could not make that hand tremble in the slightest.
The black fog churned and erupted even more violently, and the mountain-like demonic shadow finally came into Chen Changsheng’s view.
The howling cold wind swept through the hair and beard of this great demon lord, yet it could not shake those two demonic horns, nor could it move his body.
The broken stele fell from the sky.
Chen Changsheng felt as if a black mountain were collapsing before his eyes, pressing down on him.
An indescribably violent aura slammed straight toward a spot an inch to the right of his brow, with no deviation whatsoever.
An infinitely domineering force aimed at the most minute point—this represented Haidi’s overwhelming and irresistible power.
Over a year ago on the snowy battlefield, Chen Changsheng had already experienced this suffocating sensation.
Even with a thousand sword intents and ten thousand techniques, he could not bridge the insurmountable gap in their strength.
There was nothing new; it was as if it were still last year. His eyes remained bright and clear, devoid of any fear. He twisted his wrist, raising the short sword level with his brow.
He was still preparing to use the third sword technique taught by Su Li.
The Foolish Sword.
He knew this sword could block Haidi, but he would also be severely injured.
On the battlefield back then, this outcome had already been proven, yet he still chose this path.
On the surface, this choice did seem somewhat foolish, just like the name of this sword.
But aside from this sword, he had no other way to withstand Haidi’s full-force strike.
Yes, he could not dodge, could not retreat; he had to block Haidi head-on, just as he had on the battlefield.
Because back then, behind him stood hundreds of ordinary human soldiers, and now, behind him were the injured commoners who could not escape.
But tonight, he was not fighting alone.
Ever since he was gravely wounded on the battlefield last year, that young girl had never let him out of her sight.
Within the black fog, an even darker streak of light suddenly appeared—the trace left by her high-speed charge through space.
Just as Chen Changsheng raised the short sword level with his eyes, the black-clad girl appeared before him, lifting her hands to meet the broken stele that burst through the fog.
Compared to Haidi’s mountain-like figure, she was so petite.
Compared to that stele-shaped black stone, her fair hands seemed so pitiful, as fragile as if they would shatter into countless pieces in the next moment.
Yet she still raised her hands to meet it, her posture somewhat strange—not like fighting, but like offering flowers.
In the next moment, a flowerpot actually appeared in her hands.
But there were no flowers in that pot, only a single green plant with just two leaves left, looking somewhat desolate.
The broken stele and the green leaves met in midair.
……
……
No sound rang out. Compared to the howling of the compressed fog around them, the area before the broken bridge was eerily silent.
That was because these two forces were too terrifying and powerful; the frequency at which they tore and vibrated everything around had exceeded the range audible to normal beings.
The last remnants of water in the wet mud were squeezed out by these two mighty forces, then evaporated again.
Immediately after, they were frozen by the chill emanating from the black-clad girl’s brows.
The fog thinned gradually. Whether moisture or demonic intent, it all condensed into water, which, before it could turn into rain, had already formed ice beads.
Countless crystalline ice beads reflected the starlight falling from the night sky, like countless luminous pearls, illuminating the scene with breathtaking beauty.
So beautiful it seemed not of this world.
Like those countless nights beneath the North New Bridge.
Standing before the myriad fine ice beads, the black-clad girl’s figure remained petite.
But at this moment, she no longer seemed fragile; instead, she was immensely powerful.
A laugh of ambiguous meaning rang out from Haidi’s mouth.
The fog suddenly thickened again, and a terrifying demonic aura, like a towering flood, slammed toward her.
The already parched lakebed cracked with countless deep fissures. Her black robes whipped wildly, torn in several places. Her black hair danced fiercely, a few strands snapping off. The iron chain around her ankle also writhed incessantly, like a snake writhing in agony amidst fire.
Clearly, with her restrictions not fully broken, even wielding a heavy treasure from the Li Palace, she was still no match for this great demon lord.
Yet on her icy, snow-cold face, there was still no trace of fear, nor any thought of retreat.
She held her head high, like a stubborn young girl.
Also like a proud dragon.
……
……
All of this happened in an extremely brief instant.
Chen Changsheng did not sheathe his sword, but he had no time to help her.
Accompanied by sounds like rolling boulders and thunder splitting the sky, several towering shadows, as tall as towers, arrived outside the snow valley.
These were the demonic elites following Haidi.
Chen Changsheng suddenly vanished.
On the hard, dry, and cracked lakebed, dozens of faint footprints appeared.
If someone were looking at the stars in the night sky at that moment, they might discern a hidden connection between the positions of these footprints and the constellations above.
This was the Yashi Step he had comprehended from the Daoist scriptures back then. Through years of study, especially after gradually digesting the inscriptions on the Heavenly Book Monoliths, it was no longer what it used to be.
In an instant, he left the broken bridge and went outside the snow valley, bringing with him countless winds and rains, enveloping those several demonic elites entirely.
The wind and rain were all swords.
Swords were everywhere.
"Gulumu!"
Haidi suddenly shouted, his voice unable to conceal a hint of shock.
……
……
(I only got back from the hospital after ten o’clock, utterly exhausted. I really thought I wouldn’t be able to write today, but I didn’t expect myself to be this awesome. Also, back when we voted on WeChat, the name Zhusha won, but… I really want to use Zhizhi! When writing, I always feel that calling the little black dragon Zhusha doesn’t flow quite right… I’ll think about it some more.)