Shui Duopo!
Mo Ziru’s sword pierced through Song Xiaoyu’s chest, the force of the strike sending him flying backward off the blade, blood splattering across the ground. The sword technique, March , grievously wounded Song Xiaoyu before Mo Ziru reversed his grip and swept horizontally, flicking out a dozen tiny sword blossoms like bloodstained roses in spring. Tang Wujun’s longbow whirled into a shadowy blur, yet it could not stop those rose-like sword strikes from piercing through—opening over a dozen wounds on his body!
Without pause, Mo Ziru stepped forward and swung his sword again. Tang Wujun saw only his bloodied face, eyes wide with fury, as he roared and brought his blade down like an axe upon the longbow. With a crack , the poisoned bow split clean in two—just as sword light erupted from the secret passage. Mo Ziru glanced back, his right-hand sword shooting backward like an arrow toward the passage entrance—then, turning back, he seized the poisoned half of the bow with his left hand and drove it straight toward Tang Wujun’s chest.
Tang Wujun had not expected Mo Ziru to grievously wound Song Xiaoyu, injure him, then turn to aid Shui Duopo—all in the blink of an eye—and still have the strength to finish him off! Panicked, he stumbled backward, weapon lost, his rhythm shattered.
Mo Ziru’s face and robes were spattered with blood and tears, yet he paid them no mind. Gripping the broken bow with both hands, he hacked and slashed at Tang Wujun. Three moves later, he had closed the distance to within a single step. Tang Wujun flailed wildly—though he possessed countless poisons, they were useless against a man already steeped in lethal toxins. Mo Ziru’s profound cultivation kept him alive, for now, defying even the deadliest of poisons.
Mo Ziru stepped into Tang Wujun’s space, executing Thousand Traces Arc Shift , and suddenly their faces were inches apart. Tang Wujun found himself staring into a pair of lifeless, blood-smeared eyes—every drop of that blood was poison. He screamed in terror, “Ah—ah—ah—!”
Mo Ziru grinned coldly, casually wiping the poisoned blood beneath his own eyes before smearing it across Tang Wujun’s face. Then, with the bowstring, he looped it around Tang Wujun’s neck— snap —and twisted, breaking his spine.
He turned his head to look at Song Xiaoyu, who lay on the ground, weakly crawling away… Moaning as he moved, “It… wasn’t me… I didn’t want to kill you…”
Mo Ziru said, “Oh?”
Song Xiaoyu babbled in a trembling voice, “We… we just wanted to capture Liu Yan… yes… just Liu Yan—who told you to protect him? It’s all his fault—his! Capture Liu Yan, take the antidote for the Nine Hearts Pill—this is the righteous cause of the martial world! Liu Yan is that irredeemable demon, and you shielding him—you’re enemies of all righteous warriors! You—you—you’re the ones defying the natural order! I… we were…”
Mo Ziru took a step forward, planting the broken bow on the ground. Song Xiaoyu knew he was at his limit—but how could his own exhaustion and mortal wounds compare to this man’s? He struggled to crawl away, “…We were right… you were… wrong…”
Mo Ziru asked coolly, “Who sent you?” He raised the poisoned bow. Song Xiaoyu, seeing Tang Wujun’s corpse beside him, was gripped by sheer terror and suddenly shrieked, “It was Hua—”
A muffled thud —one of the surrounding red-clad fire crossbowmen, who had been too afraid to advance, abruptly fired. Another bolt struck Song Xiaoyu’s chest. He coughed up a mouthful of blood and could speak no more.
Hua…?Mo Ziru couldn't recall any major martial sects or schools with the surname "Huang"—perhaps it was merely an alias. He raised his eyes to look at the person in red who had fired the crossbow bolt that killed Song Xiaoyu. Truth be told, Mo Ziru couldn't see clearly, but the figure stood tall and straight. Noticing his gaze, the man even nodded at him.
The man said, "A pleasure to meet you, Hero Mo. I am Cao Wufang."
Though his words were polite, he immediately set down his crossbow and carefully drew a blade. Then, with equal deliberation, he unsheathed a sword.
This man wielded a blade in his left hand and a sword in his right—an interesting choice.
Had Mo Ziru not been injured and poisoned, he might have taken some interest in observing this dual-wielding style. But as things stood, wounded and poisoned, with no idea what was happening in the secret tunnel below, he had no patience for scrutinizing this young man.
According to the plan they had devised with Tang Lizhen, the tunnel should have been safe—appearing to offer no escape route while actually providing one. Thus, as long as nothing went wrong, Shui Duopo would be able to escort those three hundred "chicks" to safety through the tunnel.
But Shui Duopo had already drawn her sword—which meant something had indeed gone wrong.
The question was: had she killed anyone?
Mo Ziru grew anxious. If Shui Duopo had taken a life, the "Frozen Queen Bee" sealed within her brow years ago would break free. Once she lost control—she would be far more dangerous than ten or even eight Song Xiaoyus or Tang Wujuns.
Even at the peak of his strength, Mo Ziru might not have been a match for Shui Duopo. Otherwise, why would Mo Chunfeng only be known as "Tattered Robes" and not "Sword Emperor"?
Lush grass asks the noble wanderer—Shui Qiqi's sword was once called "White Emperor."
But the "White Emperor Sword" had been buried in the muddy lake beneath Moonlit Tower over twenty years ago.
So now, Shui Duopo fought without her own sword, yet she had already unleashed her full strength. Liu Yan and Yu Tuan'er were also underground, and the fate of those three hundred "chicks" remained unknown. Gritting his teeth, Mo Ziru tried to regulate his breathing, but his internal energy had been disrupted by Song Xiaoyu's "Cottonwood Robe," making it difficult to circulate. Meanwhile, the "Ghost Rain" poison had already seeped into his meridians.
This young man with his left blade and right sword was no match for him—but Shui Duopo was.
The crux of this situation wasn't about how many enemies he could kill or whether he could defeat a "Frozen Queen Bee"-maddened Shui Duopo. What mattered was whether Liu Yan and those three hundred "chicks" could escape safely! That was the key to this battle! Tang Lizhen had entrusted these people to him and Shui Duopo—this was pivotal to their fight against Fengliudian. There could be no mistakes.
And had that old monster Xue Xianzi really died? Mo Ziru found it hard to believe. Given Xue Xianzi's temperament, how could he have been so easily killed by Zhong Chunji? Hadn't the Red Maiden arranged for Fu Zhumei to accompany him at Haoyun Mountain? With Fu Zhumei present, how could Zhong Chunji have captured Xue Xianzi, let alone driven him to his death?
Under what unbearable circumstances would that old bastard Zhong Lingyan have revealed all the secrets about him and Shui Duopo? How preposterous! Had he truly died?
And did Tang Lizhen know about all this? Fengliudian had played all their hidden cards—but where was Tang Lizhen now? Had he become so engrossed in the battle at Piaoling Meiyuan that he had no time to spare for Xue Xianzi and Liu Yan?
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