NOVEL NEXT Chapter 88: Waxing Sword [Interlude]
"Does he meet your expectations so far?"
"It is nothing new. You presented me a Fool, and he acted the part. Am I to be impressed?"
"No. You are to understand, Botulvorn."
"I understand his nature has not changed. Should he make the journey to Mount Tai once more, what makes you think he would not make the same choice again?"
"He will not. This time, I shall give him no other alternative."
"Haha… And you call him a Fool. I pity you, Hierophant. Perhaps I shall spare you your loathsome fate, and kill the Dragon myself, once and for all."
"You may try."
Four years ago… In the Blighted Bog… Again…
"I can't believe you did that right in front of me!"
"And I can't believe that worked! Really, the 'Headless Impure Resurrection' shouldn't function until I reach the Shaping Realm, at least…"
"You could have at least told me what you were planning!"
"There wasn't exactly enough time to explain the intricacies of my Sect's Divine Arts, so…"
"And after you said and did all those… those things to me as well! That was my first kiss, and you… You went and killed yourself after that, you shameless bastard! I thought I was going to die from grief!"
"Is that possible?"
"I NEARLY FOUND OUT, YOU IDIOT FOOL!"
"Look, you can curse at me later. Right now, we—"
Feng's words were cut off as a buzzing swarm of flies intercepted his path. The Young Master sucked in a breath and bellowed out a rolling sphere of fire. It engulfed the black clouds and cleared his path.
It did not escape his notice that his attack was a lot weaker.
"I'm going… to throttle you… If we make it…" Yunjin mumbled against his cheek, her voice getting weaker as he carried her and ran for dear life.
The stump of her right leg was still spewing blood.
"I estimate another four minutes at most before she's gone for good."
"She needs a doctor!"
"Good luck finding one here…"
The bulk of the forest was slowing the massive beast down. Nascent Realm or not, the woods around the Blighted Bog were enduring beyond belief, bolstered by the very same power that empowered the creature.
Ironic, then, that it was the bountiful fecundity of the Decaying Greyroots that now slowed it from its prey.
The God Beast didn't care, however. Its unholy laughter reverberated freely through the swamp.
"Time… has taught me patience! But I must admit… There is a thrill in a chase!"
"We can't run forever!" Feng panted. "This is the opposite way we needed to go as well! Where are you leading me? What is the plan?!"
"What, you don't trust any more now? And after all that heartfelt talk you just gave me…"
"A little explanation would not hurt!"
Why did his wraith pick now, of all times, to be sassy? Feng ducked beneath a broken tree branch thrown his way from behind. The Beast was catching up, despite the thickening woods.
Perhaps if he ran deep enough into the Bog, the bulk of the creature would work against it enough for Feng to evade it. The problem was that Feng was running in the opposite direction of escape by retreating into the swamp.
The thickness of the Bog receded the further they strayed from the source. The stretch of land leading to the outside world, in particular, was void of any trees or obstacles, only a vast flatland of marsh and water.
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That meant for Feng to stand a chance, he had to avoid the path to freedom and delve back into the Blighted Bog. The thicker woods there were the only things slowing the God Beast down adequately for Feng to evade it.
But he could not run forever. His qi was still in turmoil from forcing the [Headless Impure Resurrection] Divine Art to activate while he was still in the early stages of cultivation. It was a fortuitous moment that it even activated at all, for with his spiritual systems still in the Foundation Realm — even if they were in the penultimate Ninth Step — they were only just barely developed enough to perform the complex formulas of his Sect's most famed Divine Art.
"There is a hollow just up ahead. Enter it."
"We can't hide from this thing!" Feng protested. "It can sense Yunjin! If we go in there, we will be trapped!"
"It's small enough to buy you some time. Quickly now."
The boy wanted to protest some more. Buying time was good and all, but it was of little use if it left them with no avenues of escape. However, he had no better ideas. Yunjin was still bleeding out, and Feng was rapidly becoming exhausted.
Choosing to trust his guide, the Young Master bolted forth with the last of his strength. The Avatar of the God Beast was practically breathing down his neck now. With a final leap, he jumped for the hovel that the lady spoke of, making it just in time as the fleshy bulk of the possessed Plague Leech smashed against the tiny entrance.
"You will find… no salvation… in shelter, Morning Star! Leave the girl behind… if you wish to live!"
Its tendrils smashed and picked at the opening, too large to make it in, but strong enough to begin digging a larger entrance.
"W-what now?" Feng asked, his whispers drowned out by the roars of the Plague Leech outside. The boy set Yunjin down. She was entirely unconscious. Her skin was dreadfully pale.
"The girl is dying of blood loss. She requires your flesh."
"She's not a cultivator!" Feng yelled, distressed. "That won't help her!"
"Now is a poor time to start doubting me, Zhong."
"As if you have not given me good reason. You lied to me before!" he half-snarled before closing his eyes. "But fine! You better be right! I'll never forgive you if she dies!"
"Then you better hurry."
Feng cradled Yunjin's head on the crook of his elbow, pressing his arm urgently against her lips. "Yunjin, can you hear me? You need to eat. Yunjin!"
There was no response from her.
"She won't eat like this. You need to feed her properly."
Feng grimaced. Without hesitation, he brought his arm to his lips and bit down savagely. He winced at the pain, but adrenaline and urgency made him push through. Before long, he managed to rip off a chunk of flesh from his arm. He chewed the meat to a wet pulp but did not swallow.
Then, gently, he placed his lips to Yunjin's, pushing the fleshly vitae into her mouth. Instincts took over, and the girl swallowed the lump of meat.
Almost immediately, her body began convalescing.
"What's happening?!" Feng shouted.
"The worms within her are moving. You've done all you can. The rest is up to her now."
"I haven't done anything! Her leg is still bleeding!"
"Whether she survives or not depends on her. You have given her what she needs. For now, if you wish to survive — and for her to be free — we must deal with the other matter."
The entrance outside shook. Part of the hovel was beginning to fall apart.
"I can't defeat that thing," Feng tiredly said. "What do you even want me to do?"
"The Headless Sun's second Divine Art. Use it."
"I have never done that before! What do you even want me to summon?! The only thing I ever beheaded was—"
Feng's breath caught in his throat. His eyes widened in realisation.
Precious seconds passed. Feng weakly spoke again. "Y-you can't mean…"
"I do."
More seconds passed. The roar of the Beast was close now. Its toxic tendrils were a mere minute away from exposing the pair. Feng nodded.
"Okay. I… okay. Here goes nothing."
Feng sat down and closed his eyes. He cupped his hands to his lips and breathed out. Tiny embers sparked and danced in his palm. He fuelled them with his qi, turning it into a miniature flame.
The use of a Divine Art was instinctive, ingrained into a cultivator's soul during Communion with their God. Whether they possessed the spiritual potency to use them was another matter.
Feng hoped he did.
With a surge of will, he split forth his flames.
[Severed Heads Apostle]
The flames grew and grew. By the time the Avatar of the Botulvorn Beast ripped free the roof of their shelter, a figure of fire stood before them.
With a triumphant roar, the possessed Plague Leech loomed over them. A mountain of decaying flesh, ready to flatten and pulverise all that stood in its path. It raised its massive limbs, looked down…
And froze.
"... Impossible."
There was a flash of movement.
Before the Beast could utter another word, the great fleshy tendrils of its body were severed. Burning arcs of pyrotechnic light left searing afterimages in the air. The potent pestilence of the Beast's aura blistered and died as the luminance of a reborn sun rose.
Rot gave way to heat, decay to life. Pungent humidity withered. Liquid mud caked into solid ground. Even the surrounding corpse-wood — enduring hulks of long centuries — seemed to dry and shrink, as if finally accepting a long overdue death rather than persisting in unsightly fecundity.
Above all else stood the Executioner. A Sword in form, in body, in purpose. The creature Feng had summoned was no mere ordinary being. Even reduced like this, its otherworldly, Divine nature was impossible to deny.
For any who witnessed it, they might have collapsed to their knees in paralysed awe.
For Feng, it was all he could do not to weep at the painful memory that form brought.
The flaming, beheaded form of Hei Xingyu — Waxing Sword of Melted Madness — stepped forth for battle. To protect her brother. To protect her lord.
One more time.