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Jing Ling seemed to want to say something, yet fresh blood poured out the moment he opened his mouth, following the curve of his jaw to trickle on Xie Yun's wrist which he still held in a death grip.
The fresh blood followed the lines of his fingers and splotched into the hollow of his palm, as Jing Ling exhaled a hot breath mixed with the odour of rust, raising his eyes with a smile: "I originally thought that the reason for your complete loss of internal force, was caused due to employing the Bone-Shrinking Technique for a long time…"
His fingers like metal pincers slowly exerted strength, actually forcing out Xie Yun's hand which was holding the dagger, little by little, from his chest.
"Now it seems… sure enough …you no longer have any internal force at all…"
With a sickening plop the dagger completely broke out of the flesh, and blood came out following the blade's edge. Xie Yun's eyebrows jumped slightly, flying back in retreat like lightning。
—Yet Jing Ling was faster than he, and in an instant had let out a roar of pain, turning his hand back to wield the hook, and knocked Xie Yun back by several zhang!
This blow used the thick spine of black iron used to construct the sword, if he had used the inside end, Xie Yun would already have been cut into several pieces.
Yet he still flew out, having yet to land while still in mid-air, when Jing Ling closed in like a demon, and laid another blow on his waist!
Jing Ling's figure was strong and refined, and wielding one weapon in each hand, yet he carried no feeling of being enc.u.mbered by weight, and in contrast the haste of his movements, and the fierceness of his power, could only be described as terrifying. Chen Haiping and Zhou Yu stared blankly as the rescue attempt fell short, and in a moment of desperation Chen Haiping even blurted out: "Miss Long!"
Everyone thought that the next moment would see Xie Yun sliced into two parts in mid-air, yet who knew that in a flash, Xie Yun's eyes narrowed slightly, and with both hands on the dagger, abruptly struck horizontally—
Clang!
The dagger point ran into the Soul-Stealing Hook, and in that instant the angle was extremely accurate, able to block the Soul-Stealing Hook amidst blinding sparks right in front of his face!
With a loud bang both people fell to the ground, as Xie Yun escaped by the skin of his teeth, rising with a twist of his body, yet did not retreat but rather advanced, and before Jing Ling charged with a wave of his hook he had already "stuck" to his front.
—this was actually a very basic technique: for long-handled weapons like spears, hook-swords, and shackles which could attack over a long range, to circ.u.mvent their attack radius, and execute close-quarters combat, is the most ruthless yet more effective method of counter-attack. Never mind the various martial arts sects present, even with small sects and boxing studios, it was a primary subject that teachers taught their students.
However, in a frightening instant of life and death like just now, armed only with a dagger in such an extremely disadvantaged position, for Xie Yun to make such accurate judgement, and to grasp such a fleeting chance — the profound level of skill displayed in that instant, was far beyond the imagination of these ordinary martial-arts disciples!
"That, that Miss Long," Chen Haiping clutched at his torso as he coughed out dried flecks of blood, speaking in astonishment: "Who exactly is that person?"
Zhou Yu amazed, suddenly raising his hand to block Chen Haiping who was going to help:
"Wait a moment Chen-xiong, this person may be an enemy… not a friend."
A flash of hatred appeared in Jing Ling's eyes, as he flew back in retreat to cross his hooks horizontally, actually intending to extend the distance between them to strike Xie Yun back. Yet Xie Yun's skill had reached the pinnacle, and could be counted as 'using duckweed to cross waters' in a bizarre momentum, as tens of clanking and clanging of metal resounded, so fast that it was too much for everyone to comprehend, and occa.s.sionally they could hear Jing Ling make a 'wu!' as he groaned in pain.
Zhou Yu was stunned: "The one surnamed Jing is at at advantage?!"
Yet Chen Haiping blurted out: "No! Careful!"
At the moment of imminent death, Xie Yun's left hand which had been injured and bandaged suddenly bent, the hard elbow jabbing into Jing Ling's throat, as the right hand held the dagger at the same time, and silently began to stab out from the left forearm
—at that instant the small of his back was revealed, completely exposed before the Soul-Stealing Hook, with almost no obstacle in its path.
Yet the short dagger's sneak attack was simply unpredictable, abruptly stabbing into Jing Ling's left solar plexus.
— "the third time," Xie Yun whispered.
"The third time." Under the scorching sun in the martial arts field, the supervisor's indifferent voice sounded.
The red-haired boy fell heavily to the ground, sweat mixing with the dusty earth to cover his entire body, pain and humiliation descending like boundless darkness, almost swallowing the last threads of consciousness.
The supervisor looked to the winner, and then to the boy on the ground once more, before waving his hand: "Drag him down."
Two warriors ascended the stage to walk towards the boy, just at the instant when they were about to reach out a hand to drag him, he barely managed to support his body to stand, swaying as he crawled up: "I… I'll walk on my own…"
The warriors looked to the supervisor, the supervisor frowned in impatience.
"You—"
"Sir," right then an aide suddenly ran up from the side, whispering: "Just now the Cloud Messenger happened to pa.s.s by, he said he wants to see this child."
On a tree the cicadas chirped loud enough to shake the heavens, and suns.h.i.+ne pa.s.sed through the leaves, casting bright spots of sunlight and shade on the ground.
A young man wearing a silver mask in robes of white stood below the tree, crowded around by a few people, as he turned around to give a studying glance towards the battered and exhausted boy, his line of sight rested for a moment on the boy's filthy, rather pretty yet vulturous face.
"What's your name?" he asked.
"……"
"I just saw that your moves are fine, why is your right forearm weak?"
"……"
Behind him someone sternly urged: "The Cloud Messenger asked you, answer quickly!"
The boy remained stubbornly silent, and in the glance that he cast towards the Cloud Messenger, there was a thread of resentment deeply hidden within.
The Cloud Messenger raised a hand to stop the people on the side, and reached out with the tip of a dagger, to slightly pick up the little boy's right sleeve.
—a bandage soaked with blood, shockingly appeared from his elbow!
The Cloud Messenger was obviously not surprised, and put down the sleeve before asking: "A secret brawl?"
Although the Mysterious Demon School strictly forbade secret brawls, yet a strict prohibition implied its existence, and for children at this age to fight in private even with fatal results were a fairly regular occurrence. The little boy clenched his jaw without saying a word, and the Cloud Messenger did not ask further, only gazing at him for a while, before a touch of pity surfaced in his eyes, as if on the boy's body he could see a resemblance to his own self many years ago.
"That move of yours was not right," the Cloud Messenger slowly said.
He raised the little boy's left arm, motioning at him to use the elbow to strike his own lower jaw, and at the same time his own body leant to one side, the right palm cutting in at an extremely deft yet concealed angle, the incisive fingertips just rus.h.i.+ng to his own throat.
The little boy understood it slightly, and the Cloud Messenger demonstrated it once more.
"Do you understand?"
"……" the boy finally said in a hoa.r.s.e voice: "Yes."
The Cloud Messenger turned to leave, yet who could expect that the little boy would suddenly grab his sleeve, and kneel audibly: "This young one is bold, begging to borrow a dagger from Cloud Messenger!"
Around them everyone's expressions s.h.i.+fted, as the Cloud Messenger turned around, as if hesitating, yet the hand which the little boy used to grab his sleeve did not relent, dried blood and dirt scratching traces from the crevices of his fingernails.
After a while, the Cloud Messenger finally threw him a dagger inlaid with jewels.
"Take it."
The little boy took the dagger, and swiftly kowtowed, rising to walk towards the dusty martial arts field under the scorching sun.
The Cloud Messenger did not hang around, turning around in the midst of a crowd of escorts to walk to distant parts.
Yet this time they did not go far, when behind them a heaven-shaking rumble came from the direction of the martial arts field, and then shouts of praise resounded!
The Cloud Messenger's footsteps slowed, and a moment later as expected someone rushed over and cupped his hands in salute, leaning to whisper in his ear: "Cloud Messenger! Just now that little boy used that move… and hid the dagger in his palm, no one realised…"
"He killed his opponent…"
The Cloud Messenger lightly closed his eyes.
The shouts of praise and the chirps of cicadas mixed together, the clamour gradually melting into silence in the wind, brus.h.i.+ng on his gown and the hair on his temples.
After a very long time, then did he open his eyes, and walk forward without turning back:
"Tell him, no need to return the dagger."
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