Chapter 143 — Reluctance

The forest gradually fell quiet. The beasts that had been snarling so fiercely moments before had scattered far away, and the speed of their retreatastonished Qinglong. Yet what puzzled him far more was the reaction of Jin Pingyue when she had laid eyes on that strange youth.

The youth's gaze drifted slowly over the two of them, studying them at length. He seemed to frown faintly, then said, "You are from the Central Plains, are you not?"

What the youth spoke was, unexpectedly, a soft, pleasant, and utterly pure Central Plains tongue. Qinglong's heart skipped a beat, and he countered, "Who are you?"

The youth smiled faintly, showing two rows of white teeth that lent him a certain innocence quite at odds with the bloody scene around them. "Who am I? A good question," he said slowly. "Who am I, indeed?"

Qinglong gave a cold snort and lowered his voice. "I am Qinglong of the Nether King Sect. Who is this person?"

Jin Pingyue started; clearly she knew of Qinglong's reputation. The three great factions of the Demonic Cult had always fought bitterly among themselves, and as an outstanding disciple of the new generation of the Soul-Bewitching Faction, she had never met Qinglong—yet the files on so pivotal a figure in the Nether King Sect were long since memorized by heart.

She gave a slight nod by way of greeting. By their allegiances they ought to be enemies rather than friends, but here in this distant southern wilderness, with beasts running rampant, both of them had instinctively come to regard the other as a comrade-in-arms.

Jin Pingyue glanced at the youth ahead and whispered, "Be careful. He is the Beast Demon; every beast around us answers to him, and his cultivation is deep." She paused, then added softly, "His arts are exceedingly strange as well."

Qinglong frowned and was about to ask more, but a roar suddenly came from behind them, followed by the ceaseless crash of falling trees. The two whirled around and saw the white-boned serpent demon from before come charging through, smashing everything in its path. Yet the lesser demons that had attended it were nowhere to be seen—doubtless, like the other beasts, they had been cowed by the Beast Demon's arrival and dared not approach.

Qinglong had not expected the white-boned serpent demon to catch up so quickly. In the blink of an eye it was upon them, a foul wind rushing at their faces, a flash of white, and the serpent's enormous body swept across at them.

Great trees that had grown for many years were mown down before such a monster as though they were blades of grass, torn up by the roots in a chorus of thunderous crashes and sent flying toward them.

Qinglong and Jin Pingyue leaped up at the same time. Neither was an ordinary figure, and both saw at a glance that this white-boned serpent was no common demon—its body brimmed with demonic energy, and its cultivation was plainly considerable. But more important still was the mysterious youth ahead, who had not once lifted a hand from beginning to end, and whose depths neither of them could fathom.

Qinglong, for his part, merely nursed a private wariness, but Jin Pingyue seemed to know more than he did and was exceedingly tense; even as she faced the white-boned serpent, half her attention seemed to remain fixed on what lay behind her.

Such a manner could not escape the eyes of the seasoned Qinglong. The two of them did not wrestle the white-boned serpent directly, but relied on nimble footwork, darting and wheeling around it, seizing the occasional opening to strike. Yet the serpent's body seemed extraordinarily tough; ordinary treasures and arts could not wound it at all.

And unable to catch Qinglong and Jin Pingyue, the white-boned serpent roared again and again, its vast body twisting ceaselessly, its speed growing ever greater, with nothing clumsy about it—and gradually it began to close on the two of them.

Qinglong was aghast. If a single white-boned serpent demon was already this troublesome, how much more terrifying must the youth behind them—the one Jin Pingyue called the Beast Demon, leader of all these monsters—be? With this thought turning in his mind, the will to flee took root. As he flew past Jin Pingyue, he hissed urgently, "Go, now!"

Jin Pingyue clearly had no wish to linger either. She nodded at once and pointed at the sky.

Qinglong understood. Almost in the same instant, the two of them let out a soft cry; a streak of clear light from Qinglong's hand, mingled amid Jin Pingyue's purple radiance, struck the white-boned serpent's spine from the side. Tough though the serpent's bones were, the force of these two blows drove it tumbling backward. Its body was supple, and a few shakes dispersed the great force—but it had been pressed down nonetheless and could no longer give chase.

Seizing the opening, Qinglong gave a light whistle and soared into the air. But at the very moment his body left the ground, a thought stirred in his heart, and from the corner of his eye he glanced aside—and sure enough, Jin Pingyue's figure was not rising with him.

"Rraaagh—"

As bewilderment seized Qinglong, the clear sky before him suddenly went black. A curtain of darkness appeared directly above him, just as he cleared the treetops, and a force like mountains and seas came crashing down.

In that split instant, Qinglong barely managed to guard himself. The clear light of the Qiankun Qingguang Ring on his right hand blazed forth, forming in an instant a sphere of radiance that shielded his whole body, while he wrenched himself sideways.

Even so, the dark curtain's downward plunge was inconceivably fast. With a great "bang," the halo around Qinglong was struck by the immense force, and he was sent flying. At that same moment, Qinglong clearly saw Jin Pingyue transform into a streak of purple light and soar into the sky from behind the dark curtain that he himself had drawn away. From far off, he heard her soft, alluring laugh:

"Many thanks, Uncle! If fate allows another meeting, this little woman shall thank you in person!"

Qinglong forced down the churning blood in his chest, and a bitter smile flickered at the corner of his mouth. He had roamed the world all his life, and in his old age he had been outwitted by a slip of a girl.

But at such a moment, how could he spare a thought for Jin Pingyue? In midair he reached out and dug his hand into the trunk of a great tree; with a ripping sound his palm sank deep into the wood, and his body swung around with the momentum and came down.

The next instant, the white-boned serpent demon was behind him, glaring hungrily—yet it did not charge at once. On its enormous head its forked tongue flicked in and out with a hissing sound. As for the dark curtain ahead, it had by now dropped to the ground and vanished again with a whoosh, swift beyond all telling.

It was the bewitching youth, however, who had somehow appeared like a phantom a zhang before Qinglong, hands clasped behind his back.

Qinglong landed and let out a long breath. Cut off as he was, he now felt no hurry to flee; he merely frowned slightly, studied the youth for a few glances, and suddenly said, "That creature in the sky just now—is it the legendary Taotie?"

The youth raised his brows, and a smile touched the corner of his mouth. "I did not think you had an eye for such things. Correct—it is Taotie."

"Rraaagh!"

At the youth's words, a strange cry sounded—this time soft and low, issuing from behind the youth. A moment later, a hideous head slowly emerged from behind the youth's figure.

It was hard to say what animal this head resembled. Four eyes, each the size of a bronze bell, were set in two pairs on either side of its face; six sharp fangs jutted from its great maw, with saliva dripping ceaselessly from them. Its gray-black hide was covered in coarse, hard lumps—even the most malevolent ghosts of mortal legend could scarcely be as ugly and ferocious as this monster.

Qinglong drew a sharp breath.