Chapter 52
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: True Detective
Chapter: 51
Chapter Title: Darkness - 1
-----------------------------------------------------------------
- Kill him, Hui.
A girl's voice, thin and childlike, as if whispered right into his ear.
- Burn him.
- Rip out his guts and carve off his flesh!
A chilling falsetto followed, a will that pierced not the ears but the heart itself.
The qi the Girl had passed to him was laced with resentment from the very start. Every time he built up his inner energy, it never failed to tempt Bai Hui. Sometimes with disgust, sometimes with threats. It whispered to smash everything in sight.
At some point, it had grown hard to draw a line in his mind. He could no longer tell where his own grudges ended and the irritation infused by the qi began.
Bai Hui tried to grasp his disordered thoughts.
The martial artist standing before him. The resolve in his eyes. A relieved expression, as if accepting his own fate.
Yes, at least this much was his own will.
"Disgusting..."
You're all the same.
He tightened his grip on his sword. The hilt was slick with blood. Just like that time in Jiangming when he had dyed an entire inn red. Martial artists, so-called heroes.
They all weighed lives differently.
- Fall back behind me.
- Young Master Tian!
On the top floor of the inn, World Dragon stood at the forefront of them all. He forced down his fear and took the lead.
Sword pointed forward, accepting his fate, eyes filled with righteous spirit.
Not a step past me until you kill me.
- Tell my father that this unfilial son met a death he wouldn't be ashamed of.
Bai Hui clearly memorized World Dragon's face, barely steadying his trembling sword tip, and the expressions of the young scions from minor and mid-tier clans lined up behind him.
These were the same scum who had played Go with human lives, now overcoming the terror of death for one another.
His sword slid into its sheath. The blade, glistening with the grease of the dead, was sheathed without a sound.
"Aren't you afraid of death?"
"It'd be a lie to say I'm not. But..."
Under the cold gaze of the wide-brimmed hat, the young tiger tensed his entire body.
Who in the world wasn't afraid of death? He still had so much left to do. Mountains of things he wanted to accomplish.
He missed everyone in the Peng Clan. Thinking of Yang Chuxue alone tore at his heart.
Still, the boy hero spoke calmly.
"What I fear more is watching my friends fall."
"I see. Then..."
Peng Clan's mounted formation, mid stance observing the foe. No hesitation in the blade.
He cast aside stray thoughts. Severed lingering attachments. What remained was pure heroic spirit.
A vow to stop the demon before him.
Witnessing that, Bai Hui's torso bent ever so slightly. His left hand rested lightly on the hilt. The thick voice leaking from beneath the brim was...
"I'll have to cut you and all your friends down."
Colder than ever before.
Peng Xiaoying had gripped a sword since the age of five. A blunt one without an edge.
- Want to swing it?
- Yes!
The first sword he held was heavy and awkward. The calluses on his palms never faded. Practicing swordsmanship was always fresh and fun.
Until he learned what it truly meant.
One day, his uncle returned as a corpse. His uncle had been a peak master who chastised the jianghu.
A man who seemed unbeatable, now a cold body.
- What's wrong?
- Father, I'm scared of the sword.
Defeat meant death.
That day, Peng Xiaoying realized that every swing of his sword was a tightrope walk with death.
"Hup!"
Clang!
Peng Xiaoying focused on the grinding flash. His momentarily sharpening dynamic vision barely foreshadowed the next attack.
No time even to judge—he instinctively unleashed a defensive form. Nine blade shadows enveloped his body. Tang-tang-tang!
His hands throbbed as if they might tear off. Yet his mind was unbelievably calm.
- Xiaoying, watch closely. Even your father fears the sword.
- You too, Father?
- Of course.
The encroaching Defeat Sword. The looming terror.
The flashing memories traced the paths his father had drawn. The day he hesitated to grip the sword, when the Fierce Tiger Blade King Peng Zhe personally demonstrated the Five Tiger Segmenting Gate Blade.
Strike, deflect, block, slash—a fluid sequence carrying ascending fury. Peng Xiaoying's blade was faster and nimbler than ever.
Advancing like a tiger's claws in fury, retreating without a trace.
- Even I get scared and tremble sometimes. But I know life holds things more precious than it—things we must never lose.
- Really? What are they to you, Father?
- Our loved ones.
Kaaang!
Peng Xiaoying swallowed hard. The power behind the sword strike was ferocious. The hatred piled in those glaring eyes was chilling.
A battle with no path to victory.
The Defeat Sword was strong. No way to break it. No matter how he squeezed his inner energy or unleashed forms, barely keeping up was all he could manage. Unbelievable skill.
How had a master of this level evaded all intelligence? Did he have infinite inner energy?
Even so, he didn't retreat.
Peng Xiaoying thought of Yang Chuxue. He recalled their last conversation before parting.
He'd somehow get her out alive. No pursuit allowed. The Iron Blood Fist King fighting beyond the hall would be the same.
The boy murmured.
"The Peng Clan of Hebei..."
Ching! His hand trembled faintly.
"Stands till the very end."
Kak! The honed edge of his famous blade chipped. Through the gap, the Defeat Sword roared.
Even a blade worth a fortune had served its purpose.
"The Peng Clan of Hebei..."
"Shut your mouth!"
"Does not waver in its righteousness!"
"Shut it!"
For the first time, Bai Hui reacted with real fury. His ominous eyes burned redder. For a moment, the world seemed to freeze oddly.
Peng Xiaoying tumbled across the ground. A crude roll, not even qualifying as evasion. But no time for pride.
The Defeat Sword was already lunging for his throat.
"Hah, hah...!"
His nape prickled with chill. No respite—he retreated further. Dizziness hit from overtaxing his inner energy.
The enemy's form flickered lightly in the distance, then—clang!—appeared before him.
He barely blocked with a hasty Tiger Fang Slash.
'How much longer?'
Every deflected strike felt like shaving years off his life. It seemed half a day had passed, yet the sun hadn't moved.
The only measure of time was the flames gradually dying down.
"The Peng Clan of Hebei..."
A mantra-like recitation, clinging to fading consciousness.
"Stands till the very..."
But reality can't always be bent by will alone.
Was it the dizziness? Fatigue from seeing but not reacting? Or depleted inner energy?
He lost track of the Defeat Sword.
For just an instant. Less than a blink.
Plenty for Thousand Kills Star. Shaaak!
A sidestepping footwork barely dodged death. But...
Thud. His trained left arm fell.
Wind blew. His left elbow down felt empty. The arm on the ground seemed unreal, hard to believe it was his.
"Hrngh!"
He clenched his teeth against the surging pain. Not wanting to show weakness, he straightened his back even more.
Mid stance once more. Only one arm left, but the blade tip didn't waver.
"Not yet..."
And astonishingly, faint purple qi began seeping from behind Peng Xiaoying. The four greatest prodigies of the Four Dragons and White Path—Qingming Blade proudly among the top.
Stray thoughts cleanly cast aside before death had wrought a miracle. The thin energy sketched a hazy tiger.
That was when it happened.
Bai Hui suddenly adjusted his stance. Sheathed his sword and stepped back. Moved by Peng Xiaoying's resolve, perhaps.
No such thing.
Kwaaang!
A deafening explosion, and the yellow earth giant atop the hall crumbled. Victory and defeat clear.
Qingming Blade's life was no longer his own—or Bai Hui's. The sword thrust forward cautiously, wary of unseen foes.
One arm lost, yet Peng Clan's tiger glared ahead with a mirror-calm mind. Embers crackled amid the rubble.
The manifested tiger crouched fully.
A faint sound came from somewhere.
Sabak—
A skirt brushed through ashes.
A pale girl tread the ruins of the burned Huangfu Clan manor. Her hands were thick with someone's blood, stark against her white skin.
And eyes black as pitch.
Eyes like lumps of pure darkness, devoid of any light.
"Someone's still alive?"
In that instant, Peng Xiaoying knew instinctively. He couldn't win.
Not cold analysis like against Iron Blood Fist King. He just felt it. This one... unbeatable.
Not a being he could face. Even clearer now, unified with his intent.
Didn't even look human. What was that?
"What are you?"
"Heard that question a lot today. Well, I am..."
The girl's voice as she stepped through ashes was dreamlike. Whispered not to ears, but the heart.
Like a demon full of hate, or a yao seducing him.
"Wildfire."
Peng Xiaoying thought again how fortunate it was he'd gotten Yang Chuxue out alive.