FW (Eng)

Chapter 71: Infighting

Zhao Jing and his crew had already come to stand below Fengya Mountain at this pivotal moment. Gu Xiang's group stole into another road like thieves, hiding behind a big rock. She, having grown up on the Mountain, was infinitely familiar with this route; she had picked out an excellent spot where they wouldn't easily be found, yet could easily see everyone else's positions.

Zhang Chengling and the rest had never been in a place like this before. They had no idea that, under Gu Xiang's leadership, they had detoured around the sign that said 'those with souls, do not pass', and were already treading upon the territory of Ghost Valley, one foot inside this awfully wicked, ominous land.

Thankfully, Gu Xiang had hid them well, and those major figures plus minor Ghosts didn't have the spare time to notice them.

Right then, Ye Baiyi arrived. He traveled by himself on a lone horse, still in his eye-grabbing, strangely thick white clothes. There was a tiny jar held in his arms, and a sword borne on his back.

Zhang Chengling exclaimed, quickly getting his mouth covered by Gu Xiang. It was little wonder that he was shocked — it had only been less than half a year since he had seen him, yet Ye Baiyi's head of dark hair had since turned half white. Looking at him from a distance, he had the same visage carved from stone that was immune to time, but with the gray hair crowning him, a scant, dead aura faintly permeated him.

It was like... the time that had stagnated upon him had suddenly gone into motion. There was nothing seen on his face, only a slight indication visible from his hair, preparing one for when this stone statue was eroded by the wind, and blown away in dust.

Cao Weining stretched out his neck to see, but his line of sight landed upon the sword on Ye Baiyi's back. It was unclear where the man had gotten it from; if it was not carefully examined, one would almost think that he was carrying a giant anti-cavalry sabre, as it was extremely wide and long. From his broad shoulders, a slanted head and a tail were revealed, as a life-like dragon had been engraved into the hilt and scabbard, its back arching like it was about to fly off into the rolling cloud cover at any moment. Merely by looking at it, one could feel its ferocious air of wanting to move, which seemed to stretch over all the way from the end of the sky.

"That's... that's the Ancient Edge of the Dragon's Back... it..." he mumbled to himself.

Gu Xiang narrowed her eyes, looking over. "What is it?" she asked, not too proud to ask a subordinate for knowledge.

Cao Weining was shaking a little. He gently tugged on her sleeve, barely managing to suppress his voice, but unable to suppress his excitement. "Legends say that there's three legendary swords. The Spiritual Sword of No Name, despite having no sword inscription, is a celebrity amongst swords, extraordinarily bright and unmatched in the world. The Heavy Sword of Great Famine is a general amongst swords, solid and unsullied, unequaled in bravery and ferocity. Neither of them can compare to the Ancient Blade of the Dragon's Back, though. It's a soldier of great viciousness, said to be cast from divine iron, where not even divinities can withstand it... it's hard to imagine that it'd actually be in the hands of the Ancient Monk's descendant. All three of these famous weapons have been missing, so I didn't expect to be able to witness the return of the king of all swords today."

Hearing his muttering, Zhang Chengling untied Great Famine, which hung from his waist. He knew that what Lord Seventh had given him had not been a falsehood. Recalling his elders' saying of 'wealth is not to be revealed', he had smartly wrapped a layer of tattered, inconspicuous cloth around the outside of the scabbard. "G-Great Famine... is here with me," he said to Cao Weining.

The latter's eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets. He accepted the sword with both hands, trembling, reverently using the tip of his finger to push aside Zhang Chengling's masterpi... old rag, thus revealing the treasured sword, its jewels coated in dust. Eyes practically brimming with tears of emotion, he shakily pointed at Zhang Chengling and babbled incoherently. "This is Great Famine! The General, Great Famine! You abuser of heavenly artifacts! You... peony-chewing cow! You qin-burner! Crane-cooker! You... y-you've... practically done the reprehensible sin of burning books and burying scholars alive!"