110 A Black Blossom on the Back of the Lad

Chapter 110: A Black Blossom on the Back of the Lad

Translator: TransnEditor: Transn

In the border town, along the journey, at the Old Brush Pen Shop and many other places, Ning Que told Sangsang for many times that even if he could not practice cultivation, he, her young master, could still break the enemies with his skillful way of using knives. However, at least in the present, this seemingly sonorous and powerful declaration could only be a spiritual comfort or mental masturbation to a larger extent.

He understood what incredible abilities those mighty ones in the world of cultivation had, and he never expected to be able to beat a cultivator in a face-to-face battle, not to mention that this one in front of him was obviously a swordsman who had at least stepped into the No Doubts State.

In this first fight with a cultivator, what he could rely on was only some indirect experience, so he did not hold much hope, and yet also did not sink into despair. He has always believed that only dead people need to despair.

On the charcoal furnace, the gradually boiling water was emitting steam and hot water was poured into the teacup. Carefully looking at this picture, Ning Que watched each movement of Yan Suqing, including his shoulder and his hand, thus neglecting the utterances from his adversary which might weaken his will to fight. His eyes suddenly brightened when he saw this person pouring tea.

He used all his fingers to hold the teacup, thus leaving no others to form the Sword Formula. The legs of Ning Que that were nailed firmly into the ground now tightened to push his body forward. With the long podao in his hand, he collected all his power to form an attack like a tiger pouncing ahead!

Feeling the gust of air rushing towards his face and watching the juvenile soldier dragging the podao behind with no means of retreat, Yan Suqinga showed a mixed look of pity and ridicule in his eyes. He stretched his right hand out of the cuff, spreading fingers to gently make a brush in the night wind.

Wuthering wind was heard in the small lakeside house, which was not the torrent rolled up by Ning Que's attack, but the sound of tearing by some power in the deep night. That dim shadow of sword which somehow disappeared in the darkness behind him suddenly made fierce buzzing, unpredictably darting from the front to the back, and in a flash, it directly stabbed through the darkness towards the back of Ning Que!

After a sudden stillness, the bamboo leaves rolled by the torrent at the bamboo wall scattered around with great panic and after a sudden condensation, the hot mist around the charcoal furnace gradually settled down the ground. Time on the lawn inside the courtyard seemed to be slowed down to a larger degree.

Was that the strength of a Sword Master with a full attack?

Feeling the absolute cold from behind his back and the sharpness that had made him heartbroken even without touching him, Ning Que lamented that the hands of death would soon reach his back.

But he did not look back or dodge. He continued to violently attack like a tiger and run forward, because he knew that there was no retreat back, and dodges would also be meaningless within such a close distance. At this moment all he could do was to run on and on, which was his last hope for survival.

Rushing to two steps before Yan Suqing, Ning Que gazed at his eyes and stared at his neck, and concentrated all his strength on his podao with hands crossed he chopped down hard, regardless of the sense of death breathing down the back of his neck!

Facing the swift and fierce chop head-on, Yan Suqing was just about to sip the tea in the teacup he just lifted with his left hand, without the slightest expression on his face. In the sea of Breath of Nature, he had clearly perceived that the hiltless mini-sword under the control of his own Psyche Power had flashed to the back of Ning Que, and this lad would die when the blade fell.

There were three feet between Ning Que's podao and Yan Suqing's neck.

And there was one feet between Yan Suqing's flying sword and Ning Que's back.

The flying sword controlled by cultivators moved faster than any knives under the control of even the most skillful knifeman in this world.

No matter under what manner of calculation, Ning Que had to lose his life pitifully even if he had struggled bravely for a chance of survival, which, however, would do no harm to Yan Suqing.

Then, Ning Que should have died, but actually he did not.

Using the momentum of that attack, he secretly loosened his left hand, which naturally stretched to his back to hold a length of a hard object popping out from its cloth cover.

That was the handle of that big black umbrella.

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His slender fingers held the handle crossed with a force, and the coarse cloth wrapping the umbrella suddenly twisted. Its solid hard-woven cloth arched and was then torn apart in the twinkling of an eye, revealing a few strokes of black inside. Those strokes of black rotated to tear the cloth apart, like a black dragon violently raised his head from under the ground after a long time of dormant. More and more coarse cloth was split, thus increasingly exposing black, which gradually aggregated to roll into a black umbrella.

Along with the rotation, the black umbrella unfolded with an increase of its size, which just assembled a big black flower blossoming in an instant with condensed spring breeze. "Bang!", it opened to cover the back of Ning Que, which also helped to ward off that dim shadow of sword buzzing towards him.

Yan Suqing had collected all his Psyche Power to make a fatal shadow of sword, which carried with it incredible power. However, when the hiltless mini-sword stabbed the surface of the big black umbrella that seemed to be greasy with nothing special, unimaginable things happened.

Neither sound of tearing nor bangs of fierce crashes was heard from the surface of the umbrella.

The incomparably sharp flying sword that had stabbed the black surface dropped like a fallen leaf sunken into a boundless dark swamp, or an exhausted mosquito resting quietly on an old black plaque.

The buzzing flying sword with high vibrations looked as if it were stuck to the surface of the big black umbrella, which suddenly ended in an absolute quiet.

After a moment, the fallen leaf slowly sank into the boundless black swamp leaving not a trace, and the exhausted mosquito resting on the old black plaque slumped to the ground, or to the end of its life.

The formerly agile and sharp hiltless mini-sword seemed to be deprived of all its vigor and slowly fell down from the big black umbrella toward the ground.

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...

In the Qi of Heaven and Earth, it seemed a string was broken.

Failing to interact with his own Natal Sword, Yan Suqing's expression suddenly changed, a sharp whistle bursting out from between his lips. He released the coarse teacup in the left hand, thus folding his palms to catch the blade hacked towards him by a single hand of Ning Que!

The distance between his palms and the blade of Ning Que was as short as the width of a hair, which still allowed a gap to exist between them. But within that very subtle space, some power seemed to fill the gap, which was as tight as cotton.

The whistle echoed in the quiet lakeside small house. At the sound of the whistling, the flying sword that had just fallen onto the ground made several attempts to bounce up, which proved to be a failure. The attempts looked so miserable and futile, like an old mosquito fallen to the frosted ground, whose thin wings were frozen into glassy ice. The so-called struggle was more like a twitch before death.

Yan Suqing's eyes were suddenly filled with intentions of killing. With another sharp whistle, he crossed his palms to pat off the icy cold blade and stretched out his right hand from his sleeve, tilting his body to bounce up from the chair and holding his fingers to form a sword that directly targeted at Ning Que's throat.

It was not until this moment did the coarse and clumsy teacup heavily flop to the ground, scattering dark-red gravel pieces all over the ground. The hot water mixed with tea leaves splashed in all directions, with white heat mist struggling for their way out in great horror.

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Attempting to stab straight into Ning Que's throat, Yan Suqing, however, pointed his figures slightly to the left to draw an arch, making it a bit further than a direct line, thus giving Ning Que more time to react at such a fatal moment.

He had to do so, because he wanted to avoid the big black umbrella. Subconsciously he was unwilling to have any contact, even not an inch, with it. The greasy and dirty surface of the umbrella at this time looked even darker than the darkness in the small lakeside house before dawn.

Yan Suqing did not know what the big black umbrella was. However, as an experienced cultivator who had retreated from the Military Ministry for nearly a decade and had while in seclusion with clay pottery and tea made progress in cultivation all the time. He could vaguely feel the terror brought by this big black umbrella. It was the instinct of a cultivator.

It was precisely because of this deepest fear in his heart that Yan Suqing's sword moved a little slower than its normal level. Taking advantage of this very short time, Ning Que moved the black umbrella to the left of his body.

At this time the big black umbrella that had completely unfolded into one large surface was like a big black blossom floating on the lake. It slid tactfully from Ning Que's right shoulder to the left one as he switched them with his fingers, and then covered his entire body.

Yan Suqing's fingers fiercely poked on the surface of the big black umbrella.

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The feeling of poking on the umbrella... was a little slippery, sticky, and disgusting.

Yan Suqing stared at the place where the fingertips touched the surface of the black umbrella as fear surged out from deep of his heart. His body trembled violently and his face became extremely pale in an instant—he was shocked to find, what had surged out with the fear, was his inner Psyche Power, as well as the Qi of Heaven and Earth he had moved with his Psyche Power.

The Big black umbrella, like the deepest and most indefinite night, would devour all the light!

Yan Suqing had not expected he should be driven to such a state by an ordinary person and a seemingly ordinary big black umbrella, but he knew he had been forced to the edge of the cliff of death!

He did not withdraw his Sword Intent, because when the night was invaded by daylight, there must be a winner, either day won or night won. At around sunrise and sunset, no one could leave ahead of time!

Then a shrill and bitter whistle spurted out from between his lips. A most powerful strength finally broke out from this cultivator who had hidden amongst the common folk for more than a decade. He used the most frightening speed to stimulate his Psyche Power, which was then scattered all over his body through the Snow Mountain and Ocean of Qi. All the Breath of Nature that could be interacted with in the small lakeside house was mobilized and condensed in front of his finger, which was transformed to Sword Intent poking towards the black umbrella!

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The cultivator's high-handed strength of sword was passed from the surface of the umbrella to its handle, which was then passed to Ning Que's hand holding the handle of the umbrella. He lowered his head to keep the umbrella stable with his left hand and his shoulder. Listening to the broken sound from his carpus and feeling the terrible force his body had to bear, he tightly bit his teeth to stand fast.

At this time, he was like a soldier of Tang Empire, dragging the podao behind with the big black umbrella as a shield, who was fighting in a decisive battle on the forefront of the grassland, desperately resisting the brutal attack from barbarians on the other side of the shield. He was not allowed to retreat, which would cause a collapse of 500 kilometers. Anyone from the frontier army of Tang Empire would have such a sense of discipline and courage!

At present, all his spirits and strength were concentrated on the handle of the umbrella to resist the Sword Intent that Yan Suqing condensed with all his cultivation. In addition, he faintly felt that something precious in his body was constantly flowing away along the umbrella into the inner part of its surface, so his right hand simply could not lift the podao behind him.

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The fingers were on the surface and Ning Que was on the opposite side. It was unknown how long that fatal deadlock had lasted. Qi of Heaven and Earth surged from inside the lakeside small house and condensed in front of Yan Suqing's fingers to form a very short and sharp sword stabbing at Ning Que.

All seemed to have felt the intense atmosphere on the spot, be it the flying bamboo leaves or the freezing mist.

Yan Suqing uttered a light hum, veins emerging from his pale face which then vanished in a flash.

The big black umbrella retreated for an inch.

The handle of the umbrella slipped away from the part between the thumb and the index finger of Ning Que's left hand and hit his forehead with force. The extremely sharp sword had finally succeeded in penetrating the big black umbrella to a slight extent and poked into the part the umbrella handle had just collided with.

"Puff!" Blood sprayed out from Ning Que's mouth and nose, which later spread along the edge of the gauze mask and drenched his tender face.

On the other side, blood also started to drip down from the corner of Yan Suqing's eyes, where the essence of his spirit gradually dispersed, for he had overused his Psyche Power and thus was on his way of burnout.

At present, the decisive element was who could stick it out for a longer time.

The handle of the big black umbrella pressed down on Ning Que's chest like a mountain. Blood gushed out of his mouth and nose non-stop. His gauze mask was totally drenched with blood which continued to drip along the edge of his gauze mask down his shoes.

He raised his head with much difficulty to look over the edge of the umbrella vacantly at the tea specialist on the opposite side of the umbrella. He realized that the skinny chin of Yan Suqing had grown gaunter with deep-set eyes on it. It seemed like he could barely hang on.

All of a sudden, Ning Que found the power from the handle was somewhat weakened!

Then he quickly raised his head and tightly held the handle with his left hand, pressing against the handle with his chest. And he forced himself to make a big stride ahead!

The big black umbrella, as solid as an indestructible shield, pushed Yan Suqing a step back!

A yell as shrill as that burst out from the mouth of cruel beasts when fighting on the grassland was roared by the lad, with which he collected all the remaining power in his body to lift up the podao dragging to the ground and fiercely hacked at his enemy!

With a cracking sound, the blade deeply chopped into the neck of Yan Suqing, which then continued to forge ahead with an unpleasantly horrible sound of cracking the bones and splitting the flesh, until it extruded from the other side of the enemy's body.

The head of Yan Suqing, the two eyes on which gazed incredulously at the lad behind the black umbrella, tilted and fell down from his neck. It bounced for several times on the ground and then rolled into the tea water which was still giving off heat.

The big black umbrella slowly fell down, while its handle was still tightly held in Ning Que's hand.

Ning Que gazed at the head on the ground with a hasty gasp and said, "You're already accustomed to being a tea specialist instead of a sword master. You've forgotten to hire an escort servant."

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Darkness before dawn was so heavy and Chang'an City was still quiet at the moment, without any pedestrians on the street or a single cat going on a night walk. A lad covered with blood ran out from a street stall in Southern City. He staggered ahead, and sometimes his feeble legs would fail to support him, and he would lose his balance and flop to the ground.

Blood continued to drip down along the edge of his gauze mask. He felt his eyesight blurred and his mind tangled. He even did not notice where he had reached. He was unsure whether it was because he had lost too much blood or something else.

"If I decide to kill you, then you'll be killed."

Subconsciously he murmured, finding his way home.

The voice coming through the bloody and sticky mask sounded a bit twisted.

The alarm whistle he heard previously reminded him to leave this place as quickly as possible. His little remaining sense told him that the government had been alerted, and the Yulin Royal Guards would be deployed by the local government. If so, he would have no choice but to die.

Therefore, he continued to run on wildly on the Vermilion Bird Avenue that he had failed to recognize.

The black umbrella tied to his back was bounced upwards, and unfurled slowly.

The young avenger covered with blood.

An evil spirit crawled out of hell.

A black lotus blooming on his back.

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