boyutpedia Chapter 442 Qu Tong Appears
Chapter 442 Qu Tong Appears
Wang Ye and Chen Duo landed right behind them. The three met in the shadows at the bottom of the ice wall, less than fifty steps from the sealing array that glowed with a pale blue light.
The seal remained in the same state as when Nie Lingfeng last saw it. The huge black hole left after the ice wall collapsed was covered by a layer of translucent blue light membrane. The surface of the light membrane had extremely fine patterns floating on it, like naturally growing frost flowers flowing at a constant speed on ice. However, compared to last time, the brightness of this light membrane was significantly dimmer, and several places at the edges had begun to turn gray and thin, like the paint peeling off an old wall.
Wang Ye took the Zhenwu Sword from the blue cloth. The sword blade gleamed with a calm blue color under the moonlight, without any dazzling light, but its appearance seemed to instantly lower the surrounding temperature by half a degree. He stopped three steps away from the seal, sat cross-legged on the frozen ice, placed the sword horizontally on his knees, and began to circulate his Qi with his palms against the upper and lower sides of the sword's spine.
Chen Duo crouched down two steps behind him, her left hand on the ground, her right hand slowly sliding three thin needles from her sleeve and holding them between her fingers. Her gaze no longer swept across other places, but was completely locked on the direction of the largest tent's entrance.
Nie Lingfeng stood about ten steps in front of the two. He didn't draw his sword, but simply moved the hilt of the Snow Drinking Blade from his waist to a more convenient angle to draw it out, and then stood there like someone waiting for a door to open.
Sure enough, the curtain of the largest tent was pulled open from the inside out.
Qu Tong walked out slowly, the hem of her black trench coat billowing slightly in the glacier wind. She stopped three feet from the tent entrance, first glancing at the spreading firelight and sporadic sounds of fighting in the eastern valley, then turning her head to look in Nie Lingfeng's direction. Moonlight slanted in from her left rear, illuminating half of her face clearly, while the other half remained hidden in shadow.
"The people you brought," she began, her voice clear and steady in the cold wind, "are a few more than I expected. However—" Her gaze passed over Nie Lingfeng's shoulder and landed on the blue light seal behind him, "your real main force is that Taoist priest sitting on the ground. What's in his sword that can stabilize the seal again?"
"You recognize the Zhenwu Sword," Nie Lingfeng said.
"I've studied Zhang Sanfeng's artifacts for quite some time. Not just the artifacts themselves, but also how to use them." Qu Tong pulled a pair of gloves from her trench coat pocket and slowly put them on. The gloves were thin, black leather with silver-gray metal plates sewn onto the tips of her thumb and forefinger. "Your delivery of the sword saved me a lot of trouble. I was originally going to go to Wudang Mountain myself, but now I don't have to."
"Then you can just walk. Save yourself the legwork."
"But what I want isn't the sword." Qu Tong put on her second glove, flexed her fingers, and the leather reflected the moonlight with fine shimmer. "What I want is what flows out after the seal is broken. The sword is just the key—you've delivered the key to the door, why should I go find the door myself?"
Nie Lingfeng did not reply. He drew his Snow Drinking Blade, the blade tracing a cold, white arc in the moonlight.
Qu Tong moved in that instant. She moved with incredible speed, covering less than a step in front of Nie Lingfeng in the time it took to breathe. Her right palm struck out at Nie Lingfeng's left shoulder, the two silver-gray metal pieces between her fingers cutting two faint lines in the night sky, accompanied by a sharp whistling sound.
Nie Lingfeng did not retreat. He took a half-step to the side, and his blade slashed upwards, the tip pointing towards the side edge of Qu Tong's palm. If this strike landed, her palm veins would be severed at the wrist.
But Qu Tong withdrew her palm even faster. Her palm strike changed direction mid-strike, from a vertical slash to a horizontal strike, the edge of her palm pressing down against the blade of the Snow Drinking Blade. The moment the metal sheet touched the steel blade, a string of bright silver sparks flew, the sound as piercing as iron scraping across ice. The force wasn't heavy, but it carried a spiraling, hidden power that wound along the blade towards Nie Lingfeng's wrist.
Nie Lingfeng twisted his wrist, causing the blade to vibrate and dissipate the hidden force at the hilt. He took a half step back to readjust his center of gravity. Qu Tong did not pursue him but stopped six feet in front of him, spreading her palms out and pressing them down as if warming up.
"Your knife is sharper than before," she said.
"The same to you."
The two locked eyes for less than two breaths before moving simultaneously. This exchange was faster and more intense than before. Nie Lingfeng's blade light almost enveloped him in a cold, white net, each strike getting closer to Qu Tong's vital points than the last. Qu Tong's palm techniques remained unpredictable and varied. Silver-gray metal plates twisted and extended at her fingertips, sometimes striking with her palm, sometimes stabbing with her fingers, sometimes spreading her entire hand like a small shield to block the blade. Each contact precisely struck the point where the blade was least likely to exert force.
The two footsteps left concentric rings on the frozen ground before the ice wall. Nie Lingfeng noticed that Qu Tong's steps never strayed more than six steps from the tent entrance; she was using her movement to pull him away. She wanted to increase the distance between him and the seal.
He prevented her from succeeding. Every time Qu Tong shifted half a step to the outside, he would immediately follow with half a step inward, narrowing his blade's momentum and pressing the battle circle between the two back onto the ice surface illuminated by blue light in front of the seal.
The sounds of battle in the eastern valley were fading into the distance—Zhang Chulan was leading his men outwards as planned, scattering the Yaoxing Society members who had pursued them further away. Nie Lingfeng glanced out of the corner of his eye and saw that the fire in the last outer tent had gone out; chaos was spreading in that area. At this moment, no one came out of the main tent; Qu Tong focused all her attention on him alone.
At that moment, Qu Tong's right palm suddenly sank down, her entire arm slowing its rhythm by half a beat. Nie Lingfeng caught the change, and the Snow Drinking Blade advanced, its blade slicing upwards from below, aiming straight for the opening in her left ribs. But when the tip of the blade was still three fingers' width away from her clothing, Qu Tong's right palm suddenly flipped upwards from below, the silver-gray metal plate snapping against the spine of the Snow Drinking Blade, while her left palm simultaneously struck the middle of the blade.
The blade emitted a deep hum as it was attacked from both sides. The recoil traveled along the hilt back to Nie Lingfeng's palm, causing the muscles in his entire arm to tense. He didn't engage in a struggle with her; instead, he smoothly pulled the blade back half a foot and then changed direction before slashing out again. The blade's trajectory changed to an arc, grazing her shoulder and striking the ice, sending shards of ice flying.
As Qu Tong sidestepped the blade, she took two extra steps back, a distance she had maintained before. Nie Lingfeng noticed that her breathing quickened slightly. Although her expression remained unchanged, the thin layer of sweat on her forehead began to glisten in the moonlight.
"You've exchanged three hundred blows." Qu Tong tapped the fingertips of her gloves together, the sound of metal striking metal was extremely faint. "Your knife still hasn't touched me."
"You didn't break through my defenses either," Nie Lingfeng said.
"But the Taoist priest behind you is about to collapse."
In that instant, Nie Lingfeng's peripheral vision darted behind him. Wang Ye remained seated cross-legged before the seal, his posture stable, but Nie Lingfeng noticed his forehead was soaked with sweat, his jawline taut, and his lips paler than usual. The Zhenwu Sword glowed on his lap, its azure light seeping layer by layer into the blue light membrane of the seal. With each infusion, the membrane's brightness increased slightly. However, the process was clearly extremely taxing; although Wang Ye tried his best to maintain the long, steady rhythm of Tai Chi, his breathing had already paused several times.
"How much longer can he hold on?" Qu Tong asked, as if she were discussing something unrelated to her. "His skill foundation is quite good, but the sword intent of the True Martial Sword can't be controlled by being 'quite good.' Every time he pours more into the seal, he gets pulled back by the sword intent. In a while, without me even having to do anything, he'll collapse on his own."