Chapter Ninety: Destroying the Yin Demon

The master and disciple had agreed to destroy the forbidden plaque, but Lu Cunwen schemed, driving a wedge of stone between them. Zhou Xun was forced into battle with Lu Cunwen, while Zhou Qian faced a crisis of his own.

Dust billowed, and black miasma rolled thickly through the air, narrowing Zhou Qian’s vision to a dreadful degree. The boulders and uprooted trees crashing down from a hundred-odd feet above were heavy and forceful, each demanding careful evasion. He had no time to think. He fled in a panic. After what felt like a stick of incense, Zhou Qian dodged the last thousand-jin slab of granite. With a thunderous boom, another cloud of dust rose and swirled. Only when the earth-shaking violence finally eased did he let out a breath. In his moment of inattention, his calf had sunk deep into the mud.

Zhou Qian spat twice, looked himself over, and found himself coated head to toe in dirt, hair disheveled and face smeared black. He could only scratch his head in helpless annoyance, sending a little more dust cascading down.

When he turned back, the rear had already become a wall of stone and masonry, ridge upon ridge stretching endlessly away. He reasoned that with his master’s skill there should be no great danger, but how was he to get out himself?

He thought about it for a long while, but found no answer. With a sigh, he headed toward the forbidden plaque. Since there was nothing else he could do, he might as well destroy it first. Even though the surrounding air was thick with dust and malice, the plaque still glowed with a faint, eerie light, making it easy enough to locate.

Before he had even drawn near, a bone-chilling sensation abruptly surged through him. Zhou Qian was startled and, without thinking, lunged to the right, drawing his sword in a sweeping cut behind him.

Nothing was there.

Zhou Qian trusted his instincts completely, but though nothing met his eyes and no sound was heard, the situation felt deeply wrong. Then he suddenly remembered something.

A Yin Demon!

Alarmed, he felt a chill run down his spine. He hurriedly urged the Fire Pearl. Scorching flame rose from behind him at once, and shrieks broke out immediately, accompanied by a crackling, nauseating noise.

Zhou Qian made his decision instantly. With a reverse sweep of his hand, a black line appeared out of thin air, like the tearing of silk. At once, the Yin Demon fell silent.

Flames burst from the Ghost Master Sword, and three more Sword Finger techniques of Exorcising Malice were ready to be unleashed. The Yin Demon, being insubstantial and without form, could not be harmed by ordinary flying swords. Yet these two methods happened to be its bane. Its misfortune was considerable. That was also why True Man of Longevity had once said that even with Zhou Qian’s mortal body, he could still contend with such a thing. Still, only if master and disciple joined forces would they have any chance of destroying it. But now his master was absent. Then by what means could his master have injured it?

After he remained alert for quite some time and sensed no movement, he finally relaxed a little. Then a sharp pain flared in his back. The agony made him break into a sweat. He reached back and found blood all over his hand. There was a black hole there, and when he looked down, he saw a chunk of his own flesh. He weighed it in his hand. About two taels. Enough, perhaps, to fry a small side dish. Zhou Qian bared his teeth in a grim smile and tried to make light of it.

Though wounded, the Yin Demon still did not show itself. Zhou Qian kept watch for a long while, but there was nothing he could do about it. Since the forbidden plaque had to be destroyed, once it was gone, Grand Ginseng would be able to break free of the formation. And if Grand Ginseng came over, would dealing with the thing not become much easier?

He hurried forward in great strides. Fire blazed along the sword’s edge as he slashed at the plaque embedded in the crack of the jade wall. Unease rose again in his chest. He swept his sword in a circle around his body. Something seemed to brush against the blade, but he did not pause. Sword light flashed around him, and the Fire Pearl burned fiercely as he drew nearer and nearer to the plaque.

The chill in his bones intensified. It no longer came and went sporadically. Could it be that the Yin Demon was guarding this Profound Yin Seal Tablet?

At last he reached the plaque. He raised his sword to strike, and a burst of gray qi rolled out from before the tablet. When it met the Fire Pearl, the two forces extinguished one another simultaneously. Zhou Qian was shocked. He swiftly drew back his sword and shrank inward, performing a clumsy tumble to the ground, compressing his bones and tendons until he was no more than two feet tall. Three yards away, his bones cracked and popped as he returned to his normal size, cold sweat pouring down his face. The Ghost Master Sword was left with nothing but the hilt.

This was the vile, baleful qi bred day and night by the Yin Demon through nourishment from the Profound Yin Seal Tablet. It was the most poisonous and sinister of things. Not only mortals, but even the shell of a sword immortal would be obliterated the instant it was touched.

Without the Ghost Master Sword, Zhou Qian could no longer rely on the Fire Pearl to shield himself. Crisis surged at once. With a decisive mind, he sent out two more Sword Finger attacks of Yin Malice. Black qi flashed and vanished, striking the monster with a muffled impact.

Struck twice by the Sword Malice, the Yin Demon’s form grew unstable. Slowly, it took shape in the air: a human body, a ghostly face, nails long and sharp, its appearance utterly horrifying.

Its great mouth began to open, covering its eyes, nose, and brow. Filthy black qi seeped slowly from between its lips. Without a sound, it roared and then lunged straight at Zhou Qian.

"That really is a ghost!"

Zhou Qian jumped in fright and hurriedly retreated. But the Yin Demon moved with terrifying speed, and the distance between them quickly closed.

What could he possibly use to wound a ghost?

A thought flashed through Zhou Qian’s mind. He took out the palm-sized scale from the human-faced flood-dragon bowl and flicked it backward like a hidden weapon. It struck the Yin Demon squarely in the face and embedded itself there. A streak of dark light flashed across the scale.

Boom!

The head exploded.

Before Zhou Qian could even feel joy, a fruit-sized mass slowly squeezed out again from the monster’s neck and began to grow. In moments, it had become another ghost, while the scale was swallowed in a single gulp.

"It still will not die!"

Like an ape leaping through mountain forests, Zhou Qian used both hands and feet to flee. He treated rocks and ridges as though they were nothing. The wind howled past his ears, and his eyes could barely make out the world ahead, yet he still could not escape with his life. Still, had this been an ordinary man, or even one of the top martial hands in the jianghu, he would likely already be dead.

At last he fled to where the rocks stretched in an unbroken wall. There was nowhere left to run. He could only fight desperately.

He wrapped both arms around a thousand-jin boulder. Veins bulged on his arms as he exhaled and grunted with force, lifting it high over his head. Two shallow pits were stamped into the ground beneath his feet. The Fire Pearl flared bright, and flames surged up from the boulder’s surface. He shifted into a horse stance, and the vertebrae of his spine cracked one after another as layers of force overlapped and gathered.

Then, with a resounding boom, the boulder was hurled forth as if by a trebuchet, smashing toward the Yin Demon with savage momentum. Too slow to evade, it struck dead on.

Flames enveloped the Yin Demon from top to bottom. Yet it seemed to regard the boulder as nothing at all, passing straight through it and lunging toward Zhou Qian with claws bared.

"Heh, looks like I am fighting for my life again!"

Zhou Qian gave a bitter laugh. Cold sweat slid from his forehead, but his eyes never once left the Yin Demon. He knew this time he might very well lose his life, yet whether from nature or from the wild, unyielding spirit inherited from Zhou Xun, even if he were to die, he would die standing. The last of his Sword Finger techniques of Yin Malice was poised in his hand.

From within the long stretch of rocks, muffled crashes sounded from time to time, but Zhou Qian could no longer notice them. The Yin Demon was right before him. He thrust out the Sword Finger of Yin Malice, only for it to pierce empty shadow.

His expression changed. Bad.

His feet went cold. Somehow, the Yin Demon had slipped underground. At this very moment, ten razor-sharp claws were buried in his feet.

Pain split his heart.

The Yin Demon opened its grotesque maw, intending to tear Zhou Qian in two. Just then, the mountain stones behind him exploded apart. A figure flashed out like lightning. A giant palm, broad as a fan, clamped down on the Yin Demon’s throat and, with one wrenching pull, dragged it up from underground. Mud and stones flew everywhere.

Zhou Qian stared blankly for a moment, then broke into joyous laughter.

"Master!"

Zhou Xun nodded without turning around. He spread his thick, powerful arms, and the Yin Demon’s form was torn cleanly in two, vanishing into the air.

"Sword!"

Zhou Qian hurriedly caught it. It was the Broken Courage Sword, its spiral hilt extremely comfortable in the hand.

"The Yin Demon is not dead yet," Zhou Xun said in a deep voice.

Zhou Qian nodded. If blowing off its head had not killed it, then perhaps even divided in two, its body might still survive. He looked around, then paused at the pile of rocks and stone.

The long earthen wall had actually been torn open into a passage more than ten yards wide. Turning his gaze slightly, he saw that Zhou Xun’s hands were already mangled and bloody, white bone faintly visible.

"Haah..." Zhou Qian let out a long breath and gripped the Broken Courage Sword tightly.

"It is coming!" Zhou Xun barked. He lunged to his right. The Yin Demon revealed its form, silently howling as it thrust out its hands seven or eight yards, black claws ripping straight toward Zhou Xun.

Without a sword, Zhou Xun was still Zhou Xun. His footwork was unfathomable, impossible to track. His hands alternated between palm and fist, and in the blink of an eye they exchanged dozens of blows. Man and ghost fought to a standstill.

Suddenly, a pair of ghostly claws thrust up from the mud behind Zhou Xun and reached straight for his back. A flash of fiery sword light flickered past, and the claws instantly turned to black smoke and dispersed.

It was Zhou Qian who had drawn his sword and joined the fray.

The coordination between master and disciple needed no explanation. A glance, a motion, and each understood the other. Working together, they drove the Yin Demon back again and again. The monster opened its mouth and spat out a stream of filthy yin qi toward the two of them. Zhou Qian was startled and shouted, "Watch out!"

The two of them dodged left and right by the skin of their teeth. Zhou Xun, experienced and ruthless, saw the monster reveal an opening. He stamped against a rock on the left, shot forward seven or eight yards, and with a single fist, his right arm as hard and bright as stone-jade, struck the Yin Demon out of the air and slammed it into the ground. Zhou Qian also came charging from the front with sword in hand. Seeing this, the Yin Demon hurried to burrow into the rocks. But a burst of thunderous noise erupted behind it, and Zhou Xun yanked at empty air. A fierce wind rose, temporarily holding the Yin Demon in place so it could not advance even an inch.

Seeing this, Zhou Qian hurried forward. His feet throbbed with unbearable pain, and blood seeped from the ten holes in them. Seeing that the two were still locked in stalemate, he gritted his teeth, sprang upward along the left side, rose two yards off the ground, then dashed diagonally for more than ten yards. In a single leap, he vaulted over the Yin Demon.

The demon knew it was a matter of life and death. It opened its mouth and spat out another streak of filthy black qi, exploiting the fact that Zhou Qian was airborne and could not change direction. Who could have imagined that Zhou Qian would shift with such agility? He swung his left foot, stepped on his own left foot with his right, and actually somersaulted backward in midair. At the same time, he poured the little immortal qi he had left into the Fire Pearl. Flames roared up wildly along the Broken Courage Sword until it blazed as if it would burn the heavens. Then he flipped his wrist and drove the sword downward. The blade pierced straight from the Yin Demon’s skull through its body. Brilliant fire raged, burning its form into constant transformation so that it could no longer assume human shape. In the end, with a final boom, it shattered completely.

Before Zhou Qian could even catch his breath, he suddenly fell from the seven-or-eight-yard height. He was just at the point where old strength had been exhausted and new strength had not yet arisen, and he could not help crying out, "Master, save me!"

Before he even hit the ground, Zhou Xun kicked him over, sending him rolling dozens of turns. Though the fall was broken, he was still left black and blue, badly bruised and dizzy. After a long while he finally came to a stop. Head spinning, he could not help thinking, That really is Master’s style.

Limping up beside Zhou Xun, he handed over the Broken Courage Sword. Zhou Xun sighed faintly. There were many scratches along the blade, and parts of the edge had curled from the strain. The Broken Courage Sword was both a treasure and, at the same time, mere mortal iron. It simply could not bear the struggle between demon and ghost.

"Your senior uncle gave this sword to me before he died. What a pity."

"A sword is meant to kill enemies. Locking it away in a high cabinet would be the real pity," Zhou Qian replied.

"True enough," Zhou Xun said with a nod, though he did not take the sword. "Go and cut down that seal. From now on, this sword will be yours."

Zhou Qian froze. "Master, this was given to you by Senior Uncle!"

Zhou Xun shook his head. "That is precisely why I am passing it to you. It can be considered a kind of inheritance. Whatever the future may hold, I will have no further use for this sword."

Zhou Qian flicked the sword lightly, brushing away the dust. The gleam of the blade reflected in his own eyes as he murmured to himself:

"Broken Courage Sword, Broken Courage Sword. When the sword is drawn, cold light is born, and all the enemy host is stripped of courage."