Chapter 67 — Crimson Flame

Tian Buhui had served as head of Dazhu Peak of the Canglan Sect for nearly a hundred years. Not only was his cultivation far above Zhang Qingyue's, his insight and experience in combat were a hundred times greater. Within a few exchanges he saw that one spot on the Vampire Fiend's Blood Skull gave an impure light, and at once threw all his strength into attacking it. At first it made little difference, but as time wore on the Vampire Fiend found it unbearable.

In the sky the fire dragon roared, baring fangs and brandishing claws, while the gigantic skull that was the Vampire Fiend's avatar grew dimmer and dimmer; the flames, by contrast, burned so fiercely they dyed almost the whole night sky crimson.

The Vampire Fiend cursed inwardly, hating his own overconfidence. He had thought that after a hundred years of bitter cultivation, he need fear no one among the orthodox except a handful of the very strongest. Before coming this time he had in fact made discreet inquiries and learned that the few he deeply dreaded had not come—and so he had set his mind at ease. Who could have guessed that after a hundred years, Tian Buhui's progress in the Dao would be so swift?

In his alarm, he happened to glance downward, and was startled yet again. On the ground below, figures were moving—surely no fewer than several dozen. From their dress, most were orthodox cultivators, and several faces were familiar—above all Daoist Cangyan, standing at the very front, who had been one of the Qingyun men who hunted him in those years.

At this the Vampire Fiend's heart chilled further, and he at once thought of retreat.

Just as his mind wavered, the fire dragon before him suddenly roared like a thunderclap. The Vampire Fiend was greatly startled; he looked up, and his face changed in horror. In midair the fire dragon's light blazed up suddenly—then, after a moment, it did not attack, but instead, like a great whale drawing in water, shrank back into Tian Buhui's hand and became once more the Crimson Flame immortal sword. Yet the lingering firelight did not fade in the least; it lit the whole vault of heaven.

Tian Buhui's face was stern as frost, his expression grave. He held Crimson Flame level before his chest, his left hand forming the mudra, and trod the Seven Stars, taking seven paces in midair. The Crimson Flame immortal sword thrust sharply toward the sky, and he chanted: "The Nine Heavens' dark spirits, become the divine thunder. August is Heaven's majesty—let the sword draw it down!"

On the ground below, especially among the Canglan Sect, there was uproar. All present—above all the Dazhu Peak disciples—were overcome with excitement, and even Daoist Cangyan beside them went slightly pale.

The low-hanging black clouds at once surged and churned like boiling water. Wind sighed through heaven and earth, and a moment later, from deep within the black clouds, came a rumbling thunder that burst almost beside the two men.

In an instant, heaven and earth shook!

The whole of Liubo Mountain seemed to tremble, and around this sea island the waters, so calm before, boiled up incredibly.

A bolt of lightning, as if from primeval ages, flashed across the horizon and rose suddenly, piercing the black clouds, rending the vast sky—like a proud and peerless god descending into the mortal world, coming to rest upon the burning tip of the sword.

In that instant, the figure in the sky suddenly could no longer be seen; the blazing, dazzling light covered all this heaven and earth.

There was wind, blowing past.

It lifted, everyone's garments...

Between heaven and earth, suddenly all was solemn and still.

Then suddenly the thunder pealed again! With a mighty crash, heaven and earth changed color, and that incomparably vast pillar of light shot forth, piercing all the black clouds, outshining the red sun of summer, and rushed at the Vampire Fiend—irresistible, never turning back.

A moment later, the Vampire Fiend was engulfed in a blaze of light; even the red glow of the Blood Skull vanished utterly in that instant.

A figure fell from above the clouds.

Tian Buhui gripped Crimson Flame tightly and drew a deep breath. His face was slightly pale, but as he stood at the cloud's edge he was like a god of heaven.

After the first stunned silence, a great clamor burst from the ranks of the orthodox cultivators, and cries of awe and admiration filled the air. The Dazhu Peak disciples were all jubilant, and Zhang Qingyue too stared slack-jawed, his admiration beyond words. When at last he tore his gaze from Tian Buhui, he saw that everyone around him was smiling, and Tian Lingsu was beaming with delight.

In the midst of the joy, something occurred to Zhang Qingyue. He turned to look toward Xiaozhu Peak, and sure enough, he saw Lu Xueling gazing silently upward, her eyes fixed on Tian Buhui's figure in midair, staring blankly, lost in a trance.

The same move, the "Divine Sword Summoning the Thunder True Art"—yet in Tian Buhui's hands its power was greater than Lu Xueling's by more than tenfold.

The Vampire Fiend's face was red as blood, and his body plummeted uncontrollably. Daoist Cangyan gave a cold snort and shot a glance at Qi Hao and the others. Qi Hao understood at once. With a wave of his hand, six or seven disciples leaped out from the orthodox side and charged together toward the spot where the Vampire Fiend was falling, their magic treasures flying forth all at once.

In midair, the Vampire Fiend's body convulsed violently. His hands flailed wildly as though he meant to resist, but after only a couple of twitches, a red light flashed across his face and he abruptly coughed up a mouthful of blood, his countenance turning ashen in an instant.

The crowd burst into laughter, all of them seeing plainly that the old fiend could no longer fight back. Just as Qi Hao and the others were about to take the Vampire Fiend alive, Su Wan suddenly cried out in alarm: "Look out!"

Qi Hao, Lin Jinghong, and the rest felt their hearts lurch. Before their eyes everything blurred for a moment, and in an instant purple rays and black qi streaked past as several surges of immense force struck from out of the darkness. The two flying at the very front—one a Qingyun disciple and one a monk of the Brahma Sound Temple—were instantly struck so hard that they spat blood and were sent flying backward.

Qi Hao and the others were greatly shocked and forcibly halted in their tracks. But in that brief instant the forces had already reached them, surging forward like a tidal wave sweeping the heavens and the earth. Qi Hao shouted: "Fall back, quickly!"

At the same time, he clenched his teeth, and the Frost Immortal Sword in his hand flashed again and again, laying down seven walls of ice in front of him in an instant to shield his fellow disciples and comrades. But before the others could retreat even a few steps, the forces crashed into the ice walls and, with the irresistible momentum of a splitting bamboo, shattered them like rotting wood and came straight on.

Qi Hao bore the brunt of it and for a moment nearly stopped breathing altogether—then a green ray flashed past, and it was Lin Jinghong, seeing that his senior brother was in deadly peril, flinging all caution aside and charging over on the Dragon-Slaying Sword.

Qi Hao cried out in dismay: "Lin, get out of here!"

But those forces came on like a tidal wave, swift beyond measure. In the blink of an eye they were upon them, and it seemed the two of them were like a small boat amidst towering waves, beyond all hope of escape. They could only close their eyes and wait for death—when suddenly someone behind them bellowed:

"Fiend!"

A gust of wind rose abruptly, and in an instant those strange forces met their match, striking with a clang and clatter that rang out again and again. The wind howled, then suddenly fell still. Qi Hao and Lin Jinghong were seized by the collars and yanked several zhang backward, and thus barely scraped their lives back.