Chapter 236

  Legend of the Masked Children (VI)

  With one step, Xi Zhao found himself blurred against the shadow stirrings; having expected it, he remained calm, waiting for the undulating tendrils of darkness to bleed back into ether, revealing a world slightly different than the one he left.

  He was once again up on the stage, a squared construct of stone, but now there was no sea of souls cheering, no noise, and no wind howling. There was only him and some sixty other figures that appeared on the opposite end.

  He'd still donned his mask, as Senior Brother told him to always have it on even if it restricted his field of view slightly. And the figures opposite of him had cloaks and masks, too, shielding their expressions--though just from their gazes, he could tell they were startled and confused.

  "Who are you?" one among them asked, but Xi Zhao didn't bother responding.

  Instead, he took a deep breath and clutched at the sword's handle, the one given to him by Master; all of them were at least in the middle of Foundation Establishment, with two even being in the middle of the Spirit Manifestation Realm. He himself had just touched upon the middle stages of Foundation Establishment and was very much aware of how vast the breadth between them was.

  ... but he could not fail.

  His Master was a creature blessed by the heavens; Senior Brother Tao was the tip of the spear that could cleave the skies open; Senior Sister Xiu was a giant that could hold those very skies from falling; Senior Sister Wan was a vast ocean that could swallow the world; and even Junior Sister Light, a child that barely reached up to his waist, was a roar waiting to shake the world.

  Compared to them, he was a candle's flame in the wind--ever fearful that, with one strong gust, he'd be extinguished. He was lacking, and he was aware of it.

  ... thus, he could not fail.

  Today was about defending themselves from the incursion as much as it was about him proving, largely to himself, that he deserved to stand by his Master's side. That, come whatever may, he would not hold them back.

  He swore he'd become his Master's blade, one that could cut the Divine Will itself with a singular swing of the sword, and today... he had to prove it.

  He'd just let go of his breath when his fingers tingled with Qi, the handle of the sword trembling as he drew it out of the scabbard. It was a singular, swift motion, causing the sword to cry as the metal of the blade met the metal of the scabbard, weeping out like an awakened banshee.

  Qi turned from a gentle blow to a torrent of destruction within a breath, all coalescing within the arrayed path of that swing; the space itself turned trembling, and holes began to gape, offering glimpses of the actual reality where he saw masses running away.

  ... but he could not be distracted.

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  Though it was a swift motion to the world, it was not to him--every inch upward required full focus, and toward the last breath of that journey, he found his meridians hurting as though there were needles swimming through them. But he endured, pouring his Qi through with reckless abandon, finally finishing the swing.

  It was the imperceptible moment of silence and stillness that caught him by surprise--everything ceased and stopped in place, the momentum of reality seemingly coming to a crawl as it tried reconciling the swing of his blade. But it came undone almost immediately after.

  The sword array became visible to the naked eye, spanning some forty feet up and just a few inches in width. It tore through the stone below, ripping pieces of debris and sending them spiraling to the sides.

  The sound itself took a few moments to catch up, tearing up the entire realm just as the sword array reached the sixty or so figures who, in panic, did their best to erect any kind of defense they could--but it was for naught. The array ripped through them all as though they were made of paper, with blood spraying out like an inverse waterfall and body parts being flung every which way.

  He couldn't even hear their screams as they were snuffed out by the sound of the sword fracturing the world into oblivion.

  It still didn't end, however, as the sword array continued, shattering the isolation array that he was in.

  It fissured open a gash the size of a massive tower as the array began to peel back on either end, like someone was tearing cloth by pulling it in opposite directions. The tall pavilions of the city began to emerge in the background as the sounds of the countless skirmishes quickly overwhelmed him.

  There were just so many dead bodies lying around everywhere that he became slightly disoriented for a moment; not so much that he didn't notice a figure emerge from his own shadow and strike at him from the back. He ducked to the side and spun in place, sword still in hand, cutting the attacker's head off in one motion.

  He also saw Dai Xiu just about a hundred yards from him, who, too, emerged from the isolation array. Unlike his side, there was very little blood and chopped bodies, but there were just as many dead, he gathered.

  She smiled at him, and he smiled back, standing up and turning to the other side, sprinting over; there were so many attackers, he realized, and fights were occurring at practically every inch of the arena, even up there in the stands. As he sprinted around, he'd crash into a skirmish, help kill the attackers, and disappear without saying a word.

  Most of the attackers were still 'only' in the Foundation Establishment, so it wasn't particularly difficult, but his advance must have caught some attention, as, before long, he met a blade he couldn't cut with a singular swing. In fact, he was rebuffed, flying back about ten yards before stopping and curiously looking over.

  There stood a relatively average-sized figure, also cloaked in black and gray, with a broadsword firmly planted into the stone below, both hands resting on its handle.

  "A worthy seed," it was a man's voice, and he sounded relatively young. Xi Zhao, though, didn't particularly care about that, as his somewhat relaxed countenance turned tense: the man was actually at the early stages of the Revolving Core Realm. There were a lot of signs that he'd just broken through, but, regardless, he still had two major realms over him in strength. "You shall pay for the sin of murdering my brethren by offering your life to our cause!"

  The man stormed forward with the arcs of lightning bursting off of him, swinging overhead while still 'flying' toward him; Xi Zhao had no intention of meeting the strike head-on, using the Shadow Steps to easily evade and reflexively swing the sword in retaliation. It was a hasty strike that he didn't expect to do any damage and only to distract. He was just about to attack yet again when a voice broke out in his mind.

  Dodge to the right.

  Recognizing the voice, he moved by instinct--just in time to avoid the swing of a blade that would have cleanly taken off his head. Instead of looking at the attacker, he looked up at the floating platform and saw Senior Brother Tao overlooking the entire colosseum with a gaze of indifference. He merely acknowledged his gaze for a moment before looking elsewhere, but it wasn't as though Xi Zhao could afford much else, either.

  "You dodged that? Fascinating," the man said as the dust settled. "It seems I'll have to take it a bit more seriously."