Chapter 100 — The Dark Serpent

Ming Li glanced at her and nodded. In but a moment, the two had seen that this scene would not be easily handled, and so had decided at once to join forces.

Ming Li said coolly, "Does the Enchantment Sect not have masters in abundance? Why is it that you alone entered the inner marsh, and let them gain the upper hand?"

Jin Pingyue cast a glance toward Facheng and the others. A faint blush of shyness actually colored her face, making her look all the more pitiable. "Our Enchantment Sect is a small sect," she said softly. "I was afraid that if I brought a few more inside, those people outside would suddenly die for no apparent reason."

She smiled and glanced at Ming Li. "But the Nether King Sect has always harbored dragons and tigers in hiding—why is it that, apart from one gray-furred monkey, there is no one at all at your side, young master?"

Ming Li heard the faint mockery in her words. "We are much the same, you and I," he said coolly. "If I had brought a few more men inside, I fear the forces outside would have been swallowed up by your Enchantment Sect and the Ten Thousand Poisons Sect."

In this great westward expedition of the demon cult's three major factions, on the surface all had joined forces to destroy the Longevity Hall, but in secret they schemed and guarded against one another, so that the three factions checked each other and none dared commit the full strength of its masters—and the righteous cultivators had reaped the advantage.

Standing off at a distance, Zeng Shuyan too was deeply stirred. In the old days on Canglan Mountain, he and Zhang Qingyue had always been on good terms—he might be counted, after Lin Jinghong, Zhang Qingyue's closest friend. But fate makes sport of men, and things had come to such a pass; his heart could not but ache.

He was minded to say a few words to Ming Li—whether they would do any good or not—and try to bring this friend back to the righteous path. But in the turning of an eye, his gaze fell upon Jin Pingyue's face, and his heart suddenly gave a leap. He saw only that the woman's face was like peach blossom, her charm boundless; her bright eyes were limpid as a deep pool, and that glance of hers, turning back, seemed faintly to speak—gazing fixedly at him.

After a few glances, a roar seemed to go off inside his head, as though he were drunk, and all he could think of was drowning himself in that woman's gaze; he could not help but take a step forward.

"Du!"

Suddenly a sharp shout rang out by his ear like the evening drum and morning bell, and Facheng flashed into view before him in his moon-white monk's robe, blocking Jin Pingyue's gaze and turning to face Zeng Shuyan as he loosed the Demon-Subduing Roar.

Zeng Shuyan started violently and only then came back to himself; in an instant cold sweat poured down his whole body, and while he thanked Facheng without end, he cursed inwardly: 'This demon-path witch is truly terrifying!'

Facheng's face was stern. He turned and fixed Jin Pingyue with a stare. Before coming up just now, Jin Pingyue had already traded blows with these people and knew that this monk Facheng, young as he looked, had a formidable command of the Buddhist cultivation of the Fan Yin Temple; her own wondrous arts of seduction had scarcely any effect on him, no doubt because this man's powers of concentration ran so deep that nothing external could disturb him. At present she only smiled faintly and said nothing.

Facheng frowned, and his gaze fell back upon Zhang Qingyue. Facing Zhang Qingyue, his expression was no longer so composed; across his ever-gentle, compassionate face there now crept a faint look of guilt. He hesitated a moment, then said in a low voice, "Junior Brother Zhang..."

Mingli suddenly cut in coldly, "My name is Mingli. I have no other name."

Facheng choked on his words, and behind him Zeng Shuyan could not restrain himself from crying out, "Xiaofan, don't be like this—we've always still thought of you as..."

Facheng suddenly waved a hand to cut Zeng Shuyan off, saying in a low voice, "Junior Brother Zeng, there are some things you must not say carelessly. If your elders of Qingyun were to learn of them, I fear it would bring disaster."

Zeng Shuyan was taken aback. He looked again at Mingli ahead, and at last shut his mouth.

Facheng turned back, seeming as though he still wished to say something to Mingli, but just then the enormous tree trunk beneath everyone's feet suddenly shuddered violently once more—this time with a force far greater than the tremor not long past. The company could almost see the trunk swaying in midair, and unable to keep their footing, most of them staggered several steps.

Nearly all of them paled at the same instant.

And at that very moment, from deep within the mist below, another earth-shaking roar suddenly came—like some savage beast howling madly at the heavens. That formless wave of sound turned into a fierce gale surging upward from below, whipping everyone's garments so that they snapped and flapped.

And amid the roar came a strange, inexplicable hissing—like a venomous snake slithering, like rope scraping against rope—echoing between heaven and earth, louder and louder, nearer and nearer.

Jin Pingyue suddenly cried out in alarm, "No—it's that beast! It's actually come up!"

Everyone present, save Mingli and Lu Xueling, suddenly turned ashen.

Mingli whipped his head around, and saw that Jin Pingyue's face had gone faintly pale; his own heart could not help but lurch. Though this woman was more foe than friend to him, he knew she was no one to be underestimated—and in the campaign a few days past to wipe out the Changsheng Hall, she had schemed with meticulous care and struck with merciless cunning, all while chatting and laughing. She was truly not an easy person to deal with.

Yet at this moment, even her face seemed to hold a measure of fear.

Suddenly a rank stench entered the air, and together with that strange hissing—growing ever louder, treading upon their hearts like the footsteps of a demon—it grew thicker and thicker.

"What is this thing..."

Mingli had barely asked half the question when he suddenly stopped short, his gaze fixed straight ahead. Then, unconsciously, he turned to look aside—and there, Lu Xueling, all in white like snow, had somehow turned to look at him as well.

In the clear sky, in the direction from which the vast branches stretched, the place where a few wisps of cloud had lingered suddenly seemed to blaze up with two enormous flames.

Ghostly green flames!

Within the flames were two narrow, vertically slit, unfathomably deep pupils, glinting with cold light.

The stench in the air suddenly grew overpowering, enough to make one want to retch.

Mingli's body trembled slightly, he knew not why; after a long while, he stared at the giant beast ahead—slowly growing distinct, slowly revealing itself—that inconceivable giant beast.

His voice hoarse, as though echoing back across the years gone by, he murmured in a voice only he could hear, "The Black Water Mystic Serpent... the Black Water Mystic Serpent..."