Chapter 40
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Translator: True Detective
Chapter: 39
Chapter Title: Night - 1
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The Heavenly Demon Divine Cult—a strange name. It carried no color.
Groups using the character for "teaching" always prefixed it with what they taught: Buddhism, gathering those who preached the Buddha's enlightenment; Confucianism, for scholars studying the classics; Taoism, debating the Way. So was the Divine Cult a gathering that prostrated itself before gods?
Yet they always spoke as if they were the farthest from any god.
Why they had to come to this place. What scorn they had endured.
One whose son starved after tax collectors seized their rice. One brutalized by a first-rate warrior. One chased from the village as a cripple from birth. One wrapped head to toe in bandages, spewing curses. They comforted each other's wounds and vented their miseries in unison.
Hatred and rage ran rampant. The venom of injustice spread like a plague every day, carried through the medium of the Divine Cult.
It was a system crafted by brilliant minds brimming with malice.
What if those sharp intellects had been turned to the clans instead? How many lives could have been saved? Zhang Ping, the scholar from the Hanlin Academy, a limping man. If he had a moniker, it would surely be Demon Brain.
In the end, he chose hatred over heroism.
As did everyone in the Divine Cult.
A lawless gathering hiding behind tragic tales—that was Nangong Dan's conclusion after three months of observation. Led by a mysterious master, spreading an enigmatic evil manual called demonic arts, it seemed more dangerous than rumored. The uncertainty of their motives only heightened the threat. The only clear thing was the torrent of emotions.
Hatreds gathered from every corner of the world were carefully collected, settled, refined, and poured toward one single being. The distilled emotions surged like a waterfall, transformed into reverence and worship.
Toward the Divine Maiden.
Toward the woman standing before her, gazing up at the moon.
Nangong Dan drew his blade. Not the Azure Light Sword at his waist, but a chilling dagger. The hidden blade in his sleeve gleamed with purple luster.
A silver edge glistening under the moonlight. Steps utterly silent. The Divine Maiden of the day was always among others, so this predawn moment was his sole chance.
One step. Another step. Nangong Dan drew closer. Techniques from Dongying that Central Plains folk had never heard of, secret killing arts honed relentlessly over ten years as a shadow assassin. The Divine Maiden noticed nothing.
She couldn't have.
Pfsh!
Cold metal slipped smoothly into pale skin. No shout. No sound. Silent Kill lived up to its name; there was no way to detect death until it arrived.
Yet.
'Too shallow!'
Instinct.
The blade that should have pierced her throat hadn't even touched bone. He had struck with full intent to impale her flesh.
Why?
Nangong Dan's eyes shifted. The dagger embedded in her collarbone, the faint trickle of red blood, the white flesh.
And the eyes staring back at him. Demonic black pupils scanning his soul.
Ah, no pain in them. No reaction. She should be writhing in agony, nerves aflame, yet she simply gazed at him blankly.
Was that even human?
"Ah..."
His heart thudded. A chilling premonition tore at him.
The Divine Maiden's hand touched the dagger's hilt. She paused as she tried to pull the weapon free.
'Wrong! Nangong's shadow blade knows no fear!'
Nangong Dan yanked out his Black Thunder Sword in desperation. With a sharp ring, the dark blade rose to shoulder height, its engraved lightning pattern gleaming.
The preparatory form of Lightning Flash Thirteen Thunders.
"Divine Maiden."
"..."
"The blood debt of thirty lives in Jiangming. The heroes will collect it."
"Heroes..."
Her expression changed. Emotion filled her gloomy gaze.
"So you're a martial artist."
And her white hand moved.
Using techniques against a waterfall. Nangong Dan had trained that way before. It was a method to cultivate an unmoving heart.
Face your lifelong rival and unleash your finest strike. It didn't end until your watching master called halt. Water couldn't be cut no matter how many times you slashed, yet the sword had to swing regardless.
That was the sensation Nangong Dan felt now.
'Too slow!'
Shhiiik—! A fist grazed his hair by a hair's breadth. The form was unmistakably the Dragon Star Clan's Golden Fist Dragon Claw technique. Had she learned it within the clan? The brief hypothesis flashed through his mind. But.
"Kuh!"
The hand that seized him next was suddenly the Huangfu Clan's unique Golden Claw Hand. A technique the Iron Blood Fist King himself had demonstrated long ago.
Nangong Dan's eyes widened as he laid his sword flat to block. Silent shock. This was enemy territory; he couldn't make a sound, forcing it down.
The Huangfu and Dragon Star Clans allying was impossible. Then what was this?
Whoosh, he barely slipped his arm free and seized the opening for a counter. His sword thrust like a bolt of lightning. Rumble, the muffled sword cry mimicked thunder.
A heavy sword style counted among the world's best—no swordsman clashed head-on with Lightning Flash Thirteen Thunders. It was common knowledge.
"Hrrgh!"
Yet his expectation failed again. The Divine Maiden quietly raised her right arm. A heavy sword strike at its peak against a frail woman's hand. But it didn't pierce. Blood flowed from the girl's palm, the Black Thunder Sword caught in her pale grip.
Roooar! His trapped inner energy wailed helplessly. His century-forged discipline groaned in pain.
Nangong Dan read her intent.
'She means to crush it whole!'
His limbs grew numb, vertigo spinning. He had prepared for this, but it exceeded imagination. He had no idea how to block, yet her forms were flawless, unmatched.
This wasn't martial arts. No flow of traded strikes, no elegant exchanges. Overwhelming qi power mocking skill and technique. Tyrannical force.
Damn it, how much time had passed?
Nangong Dan pleaded inwardly. Just a little longer. Hold on a bit more!
With desperate effort, he twisted the sword. Her grip loosened slightly, and he yanked the blade free. Even so, half the edge was crumpled.
No matter. As long as he didn't die now. Hope burned desperately in Nangong Dan's eyes.
If she was human, it had to work. It would land for sure.
Thud, the heavy sword clashed silently against flesh again and again. Suppressed qi waves swept the room lightly. Then suddenly, the Divine Maiden raised her arm.
Her scratched-up arm gleamed white in the moonlight. Her impassive eyes watched it like an autopsy on a corpse.
The scratches on that arm had deepened further.
"Hoo..."
In the brief respite, Nangong Dan reset his form and caught his breath. The Divine Maiden still stared at her arm. Was she fighting the unfamiliar dissipation of her qi, or enduring pain? Nangong Dan spoke.
"Divine Immortal Dissolver. You have no chance of winning."
The Tang Clan of Sichuan, masters of poison. They had three signature toxins: Formless Venom, without shape; Blood Kirin, the flower of ultimate poison; and Divine Immortal Dissolver.
If the lower poison succeeded, it could scatter even the Shaolin abbot's inner energy—the pinnacle of qi-scattering poisons. The Nangong Clan had spared no expense on what they obtained long ago.
This crystallization of stagnant qi that sealed meridians fully—even masters struggled with qi deviation for half a shichen. Hundreds of deaths in a life-or-death duel.
The delayed onset of effects was unexpected, but Nangong Dan finally exhaled.
Now he saw the Divine Maiden clearly. Her dark pupils seemed less eerie for the first time.
Nangong Dan gripped his sword hilt firmly.
'Perhaps...'
A stray thought intruded on that slender hope, becoming his opening.
Shriiik!
A blade tearing through the darkness.
"...!"
He couldn't even shout. Footwork was a struggle. If Lightning Flash Thirteen Thunders embodied thunder's weight, the blade from behind was... lightning's speed.
He barely twisted away, and the filthy sword grazed him. Still an utterly savage sword path. Not human technique, but beastly ferocity.
It felt familiar.
"You..."
"Step away from there at once."
The hooded man's face was hidden. A rotten corpse stench wafted from his drawn sword. Oddly, he seemed to neglect maintaining his blade.
Dull edge all over. Crusted blood and grime on the surface.
Bai Hui aimed his crude sword.
"Do that, and I'll kill you in one stroke."
"Ha."
The Divine Maiden didn't move. She stood there, gazing at him coldly. Two enemies to eliminate, time dwindling, isolated in hostile ground.
His fate was plain. The note marked "Death Stone" had foretold it. He had ignored it, clinging to vain hope. The clan head had foreseen even this.
A dead stone. A clan head must weigh even kin coldly on the scales. That was the shadow blade's role.
He steadied his wavering heart. Steeling himself, he murmured.
If it must be done, he wouldn't hesitate.
Nangong Dan silently touched the blue tassel tied to his hilt. Then... he flung off his mask.
He raised the half-crumpled Black Thunder Sword to shoulder height and spat.
"Come."
The fangs of two fierce beasts clashed.