Chapter 788: An Old Friend in the Wind and Snow
Bie Yanghong had never met Wang Zhice. But many years ago, he had once stayed overnight in the Lingyan Pavilion. By the light of the daytime flames, he had studied that portrait for a long time. Or perhaps it was simply because Wang Zhice was Wang Zhice—when he saw the scholar, he recognized him.
Three years ago, Chen Changsheng had encountered Wang Zhice in the Cold Mountains. For certain reasons, he hadn’t spoken of it to many people, but in truth, many knew that Wang Zhice was still alive, though he wandered the world, his traces hard to find. Of course, those people were all great figures like Bie Yanghong.
Even as a great figure of the present age, seeing Wang Zhice with his own eyes still filled him with shock and honor. Bie Yanghong was no exception.
His voice trembled slightly. “Lord Wang?”
Wang Zhice did not speak.
Bie Yanghong calmed his mind, walked to the lakeshore not far from him, pointed at the traces of battle left behind, and described his analysis and reconstruction of the scene.
Wang Zhice still said nothing, quietly gazing at a certain spot in the snow-covered pine forest, lost in thought.
Bie Yanghong thought of the rumors and couldn’t help but say, “Lord, the demon race’s southward advance grows fierce. Are you still not prepared to act?”
In the pine forest, there was a slightly raised hillock, covered in lingering snow, looking desolate and cold.
The Demon Lord had died there, still lying within.
Wang Zhice knew this, but he was not prepared to tell anyone, nor was he ready to do anything with the remains of that old acquaintance.
Just like the one now buried beneath the National Academy.
Bodies return to the mountains and hills.
What must pass away will eventually pass away.
No matter how you struggle, whether you build a tomb that rivals the heavens or become an inconspicuous mound in the human world.
The Demon Lord was finally dead.
His Majesty and Big Brother had died many years ago.
Wang Zhice recalled many past events, many old friends, and was filled with many emotions.
He shook his head, preparing to leave.
Bie Yanghong watched his somewhat desolate retreating figure and urged, “His Majesty the Taizong Emperor treated you coldly back then, but the world respects and loves you. How can you bear to abandon them?”
Among the Eight Winds and Rains, Wang Zhice had always admired Bie Yanghong the most, though he felt the man’s taste in choosing a life partner was utterly terrible. Now, hearing him plead, he smiled, thinking he should advise Bie Yanghong to divorce his wife and remarry. But when he opened his mouth, it turned into a sigh.
In this regard, what right did he have to advise others?
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A thousand miles away, on the snowy plain, the stars in the night sky gradually revealed their true forms.
The Black Robe gazed quietly at the snowy ridge, as if seeing that old friend.
The wind and snow were as before, cold and harsh, lifting the brim of his hood, revealing a corner of his face.
His skin bore the faint blue pallor of death, yet it couldn’t hide his stunning beauty, making one can’t help but imagine the peerless elegance he must have possessed in his prime.
The Demon Lord also looked toward the snowy ridge. In his deep eyes, a wild fire seemed to burn, showing extraordinary interest, even excitement.
“Is the one coming really Wang Zhice? What a pity, I didn’t get to see this legendary figure.”
The Demon Lord’s voice was slightly hoarse. “If he had chased after us, I would have taken a good look at him, then torn him to pieces.”
Without a doubt, Wang Zhice was the most fearsome enemy the demon race had ever encountered in history.
In the history books of Xuelao City, records about him were numerous.
On the demon race’s hatred ranking, he ranked even higher than the Taizong Emperor.
From a thousand years ago until now, centuries after the last news of Wang Zhice, the demon race still hoped he was alive—not because they wished him a natural death, but because only if he lived could he witness humanity’s defeat and be torn to pieces.
From this perspective, the Demon Lord’s words were only natural. But the problem was, if Wang Zhice had truly chased after them now, with only him and the Black Robe, what confidence did they have to defeat Wang Zhice, detain him, and even tear him to pieces?
A heavy sound rumbled, and the snowy plain trembled.
A tens-of-zhang-tall Inverted Mountain Tusked Beast slowly emerged from the starlight, as if it had been hidden in the void all along.
On the beast’s massive coiled horns sat a small, thin figure. His armor was covered in golden-threaded sunflowers and dazzling yet decayed-looking green gems, yet none of it could steal the cold gleam from his eyes.
He was the strongest of the demon military—the Demon Marshal.
So he had been lurking in this snowy plain all along.
Over a dozen mountain-like black figures followed behind him, all demon generals.
The formation the demon race had set tonight was indeed enough to besiege and kill any strongman in the world, even a legendary one. Years ago, outside Xuelao City, facing such a formation, if Chen Changsheng hadn’t delivered his sword from a thousand miles away, Su Li would have nearly been ground to death. Even after escaping, he had suffered severe injuries.
A sigh full of regret seeped out from the Demon Marshal’s armor.
The dozen or so demon generals shared a similar sentiment.
Starlight illuminated the Black Robe’s jawline. The faint blue pallor of death faded slightly, leaving only a beautiful paleness.
“This man is still alive, but he is already dead,” the Black Robe said, looking toward the snowy ridge.
His voice carried no emotional fluctuation, but every demon present could hear the strong mockery and a trace of deep venom.
On the Demon Marshal’s rust-covered armor hung a broken heart-protecting mirror, its edges inlaid with the purest crystals.
He extended a furry hand, took a cloth-wrapped object from the mirror, and with obvious disgust, unwilling to hold it a moment longer, threw it directly to the ground.
The bundle landed on the snowy plain with a dull thud, followed by a pitiful, grating, sharp curse.
“As expected of the Southern Sect’s ancestral court, with no small depth. The Longevity Sect was slaughtered twice by Su Li, yet they still managed to hide such a sinister and powerful tool.”
The Demon Marshal’s voice was sharp and unpleasant. “But the Daoist method was somewhat flawed. I asked the Yin Talisman Masters of the Council of Elders to make some modifications. It should be much more useful now.”
Thrown from tens of zhangs high onto the freezing snowy plain, the thing seemed unharmed, struggling incessantly, looking somewhat like a small beast.
The Demon Lord’s gaze fell on the thing, showing some disgust. Upon hearing the words “Yin Talisman Masters of the Council of Elders,” a hint of wariness crept in. In his eyes, this thing had been a monster from birth, and after being modified, it exuded a bloody and eerie aura.
“Go south and do your work. If Chen Changsheng is still alive, remember to kill him a few more times.”
A golden hemp rope fell into the Demon Lord’s palm, and the cloth bag on the snow was untied.
A black shadow shot out from within, instantly darting dozens of zhangs away.
Under the starlight, one could vaguely make out a small human figure, covered in thick hair, somewhat like a demon race member in an incomplete transformation. When it stared at a certain spot, its dull eyes occasionally flashed with madness, like a beast that had endured endless torment.
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(I checked—this is the second time in Ze Tian Ji that I’ve used “An Old Friend in the Wind and Snow” as a chapter title… I’m such a genius at naming chapters, am I finally running out of talent? Speaking of which, don’t you all think I’ve come up with many good chapter titles? Please praise me~ Also, the pig has been donated.)