It had been meant as nothing more than an ordinary sacrifice to the Dragon God, yet first a colossal creature of the waters resembling the Dragon God had appeared, followed by two "immortals" flying high in the heavens, locked in savage combat!
Just what kind of auspicious day was this?
Third Great-Uncle blinked his clouded old eyes, feeling that in all his life he had never witnessed a spectacle so wondrous and grand.
"The Dragon God treads the river, and immortals descend upon the mortal realm!"
All around, fishermen dropped to their knees, pressing their foreheads against the muddy, slick ground as they chanted prayers.
Third Great-Uncle thought it over and knelt as well, though even as he did, his gaze remained fixed on the distant sky.
Turbid river waters surged in torrential waves, throwing up tens of thousands of watery curtains. After their blades clashed and parted, Huang Tian and Xiahou Yang slammed together once more with a deafening boom, like two colliding meteors.
A miniature sun tens of zhang across blazed in midair. An immense shockwave poured outward like collapsing mountains and surging oceans, halting drifting clouds in their tracks and churning the river below into even higher crests!
Not far away, lurking beneath the rushing waters, an enormous black creature watched the two men like prey. Its head resembled a serpent's, crowned with a pair of short horns; its eyes held vertical pupils, and its python-like frame was clad in pitch-black scales. Beneath its belly grew four taloned limbs, giving it an exceedingly sinister cast.
Pfft!
Suddenly, a spray of blood rained down from the sky.
A frost-white ribbon of light had swept across Xiahou Yang's right shoulder, laying bare grim white bone as torn flesh and blood tumbled into the river.
The instant that flesh, rich with immense vital essence, hit the water, it drew thousands of swimming fish into a frenzy. With a single whip of its long tail, the black flood dragon shot forward like an arrow, parting its cavernous jaws to swallow hundreds of fish along with the blood and meat.
"Wuuu..."
Letting out a low, satisfied croon, the black flood dragon looked up at the two men, its vertical pupils gleaming with avarice and thirst.
High above, Xiahou Yang grunted, hurtling backward as fury and astonishment flashed across his face.
Master told me that I had reached the absolute peak of Rank One—that unless a Celestial Being took the field, no one under heaven could rival me. How is it that clashing with this man today, I was the first to bleed?!
And when I set out from the State of Lan, Sacred Cult intelligence still claimed he was merely Rank Four. Yet now he takes to the sky in unbridled flight, clearly having stepped into the realm of a Grandmaster. Could he have been hiding his true strength all along—
Thoughts raced through his mind, but another silver gleam of blade light had already ripped through the heavens. Xiahou Yang brought his blade across to parry; the sheer force jolted him back, churning his blood and qi and turning his face pale.
And in the very instant he retreated, wounded and briefly stalled in his breath—
"Moo-roar!"
A sound like the bellow of a bull mingled with the roar of a dragon shattered the air as the river water directly below him erupted.
A monstrous head covered in pitch-black scales burst forth, its gaping maw like a house opening wide to reveal jagged, savage fangs. Raising a foul, nauseating gale, it lunged like a streak of black lightning to swallow the injured Xiahou Yang whole.
The black flood dragon struck with terrifying speed and ferocity!
Just as it seemed poised to engulf half his body, in that split second between life and death, Xiahou Yang's eyes held not a trace of fear, but only incandescent wrath.
"Beast, you court death!"
With a furious roar, Xiahou Yang spread the five fingers of his free left hand into an eagle's claw. Scorching, dark-red true qi instantly engulfed his palm as if wrapped in blazing molten magma, darting forward like lightning toward the beast!
Pfft!
With a dull thud, his claw pierced right through the reeking gale of the lunge, sinking with unerring precision into the hardened scales atop the flood dragon's head!
Dong!
Like a giant checking the charge of a divine elephant, Xiahou Yang's surging, monstrous might clamped down, arresting the flood dragon's mountain-toppling momentum with that single claw!
The creature's sheer inertia whipped its lower body wildly through the river, kicking up churning, murky billows, yet its mountain-sized head was forcibly pinned in midair by Xiahou Yang's bare hand.
"Roar!"
Enraged, the beast writhed madly to wrench free, but Xiahou Yang gave it no such chance.
Almost the instant his left hand seized the dragon's skull, the dark-red saber in his right swept upward, sweeping along an ocean of true qi before crashing down upon its head.
Pfft-crack!
The hard scales split open, carving a gaping, bone-deep wound from which crimson dragon blood cascaded like a waterfall.
The black flood dragon let out an agonized hiss, thrashing even more frantically.
Right at that moment.
A streak of frost-white, chilling blade light suddenly flared between heaven and earth.
Like a rainbow spanning the sky, it carved a straight path across the heavens and cleaved into the nape of the black flood dragon's neck.
Chii!
Where the blade light passed, the dragon's massive head was instantly severed from its gargantuan torso, sending scalding blood spraying outward.
The colossal severed head remained pinned in midair by Xiahou Yang's left hand, its savage vertical pupils still fixed in disbelief. Meanwhile, the headless body spasmed and convulsed a few times in the air before crashing down into the river with an earth-shattering boom, sending walls of water soaring toward the clouds!
Glittering blood quickly dyed a broad stretch of the river crimson. Swarms of fish and shrimp rushed madly toward the severed corpse, some drinking the blood, others gorging on the flesh, until tens of thousands clustered around the carcass.
"Grandpa Dragon God is dead?!" Along the riverbank, over a hundred fishermen stood dumbstruck.
That flood dragon over ten zhang long, massive as a small hill, had been slain in a mere two or three exchanges by those two "immortals"?!
Third Great-Uncle was equally terrified, but his wits were sharp. He hurried to say, "That wasn't the Dragon God! That was a man-eating river demon bringing calamity to the waters! The immortals abhorred its cruelty and struck it down! Now that it's dead, our boats will sail in peace!"
Hearing this, the crowd looked torn between belief and doubt. A young lad spoke up, "Then, Third Great-Uncle, which of the two fighting immortals is the good one?"
Third Great-Uncle faltered. Both "immortals" had struck to slay the dragon, so by all rights they should both be good men—yet they had been trying to kill each other the whole way here.
After a brief pause, Third Great-Uncle glared at the youth. "Never you mind which one is good! So long as you know that river demon was bad, that's enough!"
"Oh, right!" The lad shrank back, muttering a few unintelligible words under his breath.
Up in the sky, Xiahou Yang flung the severed dragon head down into the river and locked eyes with Huang Tian from afar. "I thought you would take the chance to strike from behind."
Huang Tian let out a soft laugh. "Why would I need the aid of a flood dragon to kill you?"
Xiahou Yang did not take offense. Instead, he gave a slow nod, the battle intent upon him burning brighter. In a voice like ringing steel, he said, "Again!"
An unnatural flush abruptly crept over his face as though he had triggered some secret art. His true qi rose like roaring flames, wrapping his entire body in dark-red fire until he resembled a god of flame!
Clang!
Treading on empty air, he pivoted, gripped his saber with both hands, raised it above his head, and slashed down with savage fury!
Across the firmament, a crimson blade light like apocalyptic heavenly fire swept over a hundred zhang to cleave forward. Wherever it passed, the broad river surface boiled violently, billows of white steam shooting into the sky, while countless fish and shrimp that had been devouring the dragon's remains floated up with bellies exposed, scalded to death on the spot!
Facing this strike that resembled heavenly fire descending upon the mortal world, Huang Tian's expression grew solemn. Exhaling softly, he willed his vital blood and qi to detonate outward, his entire frame bursting into a jade-like, crystalline radiance.
This was the "Flourishing" aspect of the Method of Withering and Flourishing, capable of exploding one's blood, vital essence, and true qi within a brief span.
Torrential true qi poured unstintingly into the Frost Saber, causing the clear light along the blade to compress into an absolute gleam, dazzlingly crystalline as an unmatched edge soared toward the heavens!
Gripping the saber with both hands, his twelve great tendons locked tight, his spine arching like a dragon, muscles swelling and veins bulging like serpents rising from the earth. Facing the curtain of heavenly fire, he brought his blade down!
This strike was no longer a blade astral qi hundreds of zhang long, but a slender, frost-white razor capable of cleaving heaven and earth!
With a single stroke, it parted the sky-blotting heavenly fire with ease. The blazing flames burst apart in midair, while the frost-white blade light, carrying its remaining momentum, swept past Xiahou Yang's left shoulder before his horrified eyes. With a wet bang, his left arm flew off amid a plume of blood, tumbling into the surging river.
Before the agonizing pain could fully register, the instinct for survival took over. Drawing on the lingering remnants of his secret art, Xiahou Yang transformed into a streak of mournful, blood-red light, fleeing desperately away from the river and into the boundless mountains!
Huang Tian did not hesitate. Gripping his saber, he brought his right foot down hard against the void, setting off visible concentric ripples. With a loud blast, a massive shockwave of white mist erupted as he streaked across the sky in hot pursuit.
"Third Great-Uncle, the immortal in purple lost!" a youth on the riverbank cried out.
Leaning on his wooden cane, Third Great-Uncle gazed into the distance. "I saw it, and I know now! That young immortal is the good one, and the one in purple is evil! Why else would he lose?"
"Aye, that's right! Good triumphs over evil! The young immortal must have come to slay the evil dragon and purge the great demon!" others chimed in.
Another voice asked, "Third Great-Uncle, when we make our offerings next year, do we still pray to Grandpa Dragon God, or should we pray to that immortal?"
"Aye, we've never even seen Grandpa Dragon God, but we saw the immortal with our own eyes today."
Hearing their words, Third Great-Uncle pondered, tapping his cane twice against the soft soil. "Grandpa Dragon God must still be worshipped, but we cannot neglect the immortal either. Let's talk it over and erect a statue for the immortal, holding two grand sacrifices every year. What do you all say?"
"Splendid!"
"Sounds right to me."
...
While they were discussing raising a divine effigy to Huang Tian, two streaks of light, one leading and one pursuing, traversed mountains and rivers across a distance of over a hundred li, drawing countless upturned faces in awe along their path.
At last, the lead streak of blood-red light plummeted into a towering mountain.
With a crash, dust and smoke billowed forth, revealing Xiahou Yang's figure.
He stood atop a small knoll, holding his saber in one hand as he looked back toward the approaching Huang Tian. The panic on his face had vanished, replaced by an extraordinary serenity.
Whoosh—
Amid turbulent winds, Huang Tian touched down opposite him.
The two stood roughly ten-odd zhang apart. For men of their caliber, such distance could be crossed in a single stride, scarcely different from having their blades pressed to each other's throats.
Looking at Huang Tian, Xiahou Yang offered a faint smile. "When my arm was severed just now, I truly felt fear, fleeing in blind panic. Yet halfway here, I suddenly lost the desire to run. I cannot escape, so I might as well find a decent place to be buried—at least my corpse will not be devoured by fish and shrimp."
He swept his saber in a circle toward the surroundings. "Look. This place is quiet, serene, and fair—well suited to lay my bones."
Indeed, within these deep mountains, late autumn had turned the foliage into layered canopies of gold. Waves of red and yellow grass stretched to the horizon. As the mountain wind blew, thousands of fallen leaves fluttered like colorful butterflies, and the wild grasses across the hills rose and fell in gentle, graceful ripples.
Huang Tian nodded slightly. "It is indeed very beautiful here."
Xiahou Yang raised his saber and spoke. "If you slay me, take my head as you will, but I must trouble you to bury my body in this mountain."
"Very well."
As the words fell, two streaks of blade light—one crimson, one frost-white—clashed. There was no thunderous explosion, only a soft, quiet thud.
The crimson vanished. The frost-white blade light continued forward, cleaving diagonally across Xiahou Yang's neck.
Whoosh!
Hot blood surged toward the sky. Xiahou Yang's severed head spun several times in the air before thudding to the earth, a faint trace of relief lingering in his eyes.
Blood sprayed across the ground, forming a poignant contrast against the deep reds and oranges of the autumn hills.
Huang Tian stepped forward to the headless corpse, flicked his saber to slice away a piece of the purple robe, and raised a hand to draw the severed head into the cloth, wrapping it securely.
With a push of true qi, the thick stench of blood was sealed inside.
Holding the small bundle, Huang Tian stomped his foot. The ground immediately cracked open into a chasm several zhang wide and over a zhang deep.
A sweep of his sleeve unleashed a blast of wind that lifted Xiahou Yang's corpse and dropped it into the fissure. Another stomp infused with true qi caused the earth to snap shut, leaving not the slightest hint that a man lay buried beneath.
"I wonder where this is?"
Carrying the bundled head, Huang Tian stood on the hilltop, looking in all directions. Suddenly, a long whinny echoed through the mountains. Looking closely, he saw a dragon horse panting heavily as it galloped toward him along a distant mountain path.
"Good horse! Good horse!"
Huang Tian laughed heartily. He had not expected the dragon horse to follow them all this way. From the battle along the river to Xiahou Yang's desperate flight into the mountains, they had covered hundreds of li. Though the dragon horse possessed exceptional endurance, it must have exerted itself to the limit to keep up, or it would have fallen behind long ago.
Rumble!
Soaring into the air behind a long trail of white mist, Huang Tian crossed the distance in dozens of breaths and landed beside the beast.
"Neigh—neigh—" Seeing him, the dragon horse neighed happily and reared its hooves. But after such an exhausting run, it had little strength left and could only heave heavy breaths.
Huang Tian stroked its broad head, channeling gentle true qi into its body. The dragon horse's spirits lifted as its strength began to return, though weariness still lingered in its eyes.
It gently nudged Huang Tian's arm. Catching its meaning, he swung into the saddle, tied the bundle containing Xiahou Yang's head to the horse's flank, and said, "No rush. Take your time. I need to meditate and recover as well."
Xiahou Yang's prowess had truly been beyond reproach; he had walked almost to the very end of the Rank One Grandmaster realm. That fierce battle had drained much of Huang Tian's true qi, and he needed time to adjust his breathing.
"Follow the mountain trail outward..."
Lightly patting the dragon horse's head, Huang Tian closed his eyes to settle his spirit, drawing in the spiritual qi between heaven and earth.
Chapter 128