novelraw Chapter 487: A Sword Cultivator and the Sword Are Partners for Life
Chapter 487: A Sword Cultivator and the Sword Are Partners for Life
With the rip of cloth, a flying sword as black as charcoal dropped into Old Black Daoist’s hand. It shed no light at all and seemed to merge perfectly with the night; if one didn’t look closely, it was easy to overlook.
Shui Jian and the others froze when they heard him say “Madam,” their eyes instinctively following Old Black Daoist’s movements, too slow to react. In a flash, Old Black Daoist had already brought his blade down: black sword light burst forth, and the entire space quaked as if on the verge of collapse, until it felt as though only that single stroke existed between heaven and earth.
Shui Jian’s face changed; his hands flew through seals as he barked under his breath: “Spatial barrier!” A strange force spread outward. Space around him twisted and warped, and a transparent barrier condensed before him.
Boom. The black sword light slammed into the barrier; violent waves of spiritual power rippled out. Shui Jian staggered back a step, yet the barrier did not budge. Delighted rather than alarmed, Old Black Daoist tightened his grip on Madam and said: “Good, take a few more of my strikes!” Sword light swarmed forth. In the blink of an eye it hammered the barrier again and again, the crash of impacts unending. Battered by the force, Shui Jian gave ground repeatedly; the Water Clan cultivators behind him, seeing this, poured their spiritual power into their patriarch to help him hold the line.
“Now!” Ancestor Sui Bian growled, spiritual power surging around him as a ring of five-colored radiance unfurled to shroud the Water Clan crowd. At once, the Water Clan felt their inner circulation clog and stall, a helpless weakness rising in their limbs.
Senior Xiu Yu formed a hand seal with her right hand; spiritual power condensed at her fingertips into a dazzling line of light. She slashed down and snapped: “Open!” A shrill tearing rang out; a fissure split the congealed space. Without hesitation she seized Yu Zhao and dove into the crack. Ancestor Sui Bian and Old Black Daoist followed on her heels, and the four figures vanished.
Shui Jian’s face went livid as he roared: “After them! Do not let them escape!” But by the time they shook off the five-colored radiance, the spatial rift had already sealed, and Yu Zhao and the others were gone without a trace.
“Ah!” “Where are they? Where did Yu Zhao and the rest go?” Shui Jian was still venting his fury when Tu Zhen Yue finally rushed up with the Earth Clan contingent. The moment he saw Shui Jian, he blurted out a hurried demand for their whereabouts. Fury blazed in Shui Jian’s eyes as he snapped: “They ran, and only then do you show up! What were you doing earlier?”
Tu Zhen Yue had already swallowed a stomachful of anger before the few sect masters of Pinnacle Sect; now, blamed by Shui Jian, he burned up as well: “I told you to stay here for one reason—help me stop them. What good are you if you can’t even hold two of them?”
“Two? It was four!”“Four? How could it be four?” Tu Zhen Yue was stunned, even wondering if Shui Jian had mistaken someone else for them.
“It was four—two men and two women. One of them looked especially wretched; one look and you know he’s the man you want. His name is Sui Bian, and his face is Sui Bian too,” Shui Jian said with ringing certainty, and Tu Zhen Yue believed him at once. “Then where did they go? Which way did they run? Why aren’t you chasing?”
“We can’t. They tore open space and escaped through a spatial passage,” Shui Jian said helplessly.
Tu Zhen Yue’s expression turned as dark as thunder. He had almost caught the thief who killed his youngest son, only for them to slip away yet again. Worse, the storage bracelet’s barrier had only eleven layers left; if every layer was broken, nothing inside would be safe. He snarled: “Increase the bounty. Dead or alive, bring them in!”
…
On the far side of the spatial crack, the four—Yu Zhao among them—appeared one after another in an unfamiliar star domain. Remembering the peril just now, Yu Zhao still felt a lingering chill; without the seamless cooperation of the three seniors, they would likely not have made it out. She let out a long breath and was about to speak, when she saw Old Black Daoist cradling his sword with aching tenderness, muttering nonstop: “Madam, that was hard on you just now.”
Yu Zhao was speechless. In the press of danger she had nearly forgotten that Old Black Daoist’s flying sword was actually named “Madam.” [What a peculiar name.]
Ancestor Sui Bian rolled his eyes and said: “Old Black Daoist, can you not call it that so mushily?” Old Black Daoist glared at him and retorted: “What do you know? A sword cultivator and his sword are one; the sword is my life. Madam did the heavy lifting in that battle. Of course I should thank her properly.” He looked around at the others and spoke urgently: “Anyone have any cloth? Quick, give me some. I need to wrap Madam up again so she doesn’t get damaged.”
Yu Zhao hurriedly took a fine bolt of cloth from her storage space and handed it over: “Old Black Daoist, will this do?” He clicked his tongue in dislike and shook his head: “No. Too gaudy. Doesn’t fit my aura.” Remembering the few torn rags he used to swaddle his sword, Yu Zhao’s eye twitched.
Old Black Daoist turned to Ancestor Sui Bian. Ancestor Sui Bian raised his hands at once and said: “Don’t look at me. Few cultivators are as slovenly as you. I don’t have a hobby of collecting rags.” Before Old Black Daoist could beg, Senior Xiu Yu had already refused as well.
Frowning in thought, he lowered his eyes to his tattered robe. Suddenly his gaze lit up: “Got it.” He grabbed the hem in both hands and gave a yank. Rip, rip, rip—irregular strips came away. Nodding with satisfaction, he wrapped the torn strips carefully around the blade, his movements gentle as if handling a priceless treasure.
Ancestor Sui Bian clicked his tongue in wonder and said: “Old Black Daoist, you really are stingy to the bone. You won’t even use a piece of cloth; you’d rather tear your own clothes.” Without looking up, Old Black Daoist kept wrapping as he said: “What do you know? This robe may be old, but I’ve worn it for hundreds of years; it’s already in tune with my heart. Using it to swaddle my sword is the most fitting choice.” He finished, slung the sword across his back, and nodded in satisfaction: “All right. Madam is safe now.”
Looking at how serious he was, Yu Zhao couldn’t help both amusement and a faint stirring of feeling. She asked: “Old Black Daoist, why did you choose that name?” A rare softness came to his face as he said quietly: “A sword cultivator and the sword are partners for life. In this life, I have no attachment but my sword. Calling her ‘Madam’ is only natural.”
“Hahahahahahaha!” Ancestor Sui Bian clutched his belly and let out earthshaking laughter. Yu Zhao glanced at him, puzzled. He said: “Little Yu Zhao, don’t listen to that old daoist’s nonsense. He picked that name just to throw his enemies off so he could strike first. He actually wanted to name the sword Old Dad, but the seniors of the Heavenly Sword Sect beat him black and blue and forced him to change it.”