Chapter 494: Snow-Claw-Zhao-Zhao-Zhao-Zhao-Sword: Speak of Cao Cao, and Cao Cao arrives (11)

Qing’s surroundings whipped into a storm of five-colored light.

The five radiances of wood, fire, earth, metal, and water—but the red was the color of blood, the blue was the hue of rotting water.

The green was sickly, the metal’s luster died to ashen gray, and the yellow was blotched and seared on.

By rights, when the Five Energies gathered they should harmonize as auspicious light; what spread before their eyes was a baleful glare as ominous as it could be.

Warriors balked—What kind of “harmony” is that? What in the hells is happening?—and took a step back before the primal fear of the unknown; amid them, the faces of three Flower Realm masters went rigid.

Because they knew what it was.

And fear of the unknown doesn’t work on the ones who know.

Truth is, of those the world calls Flower Realm masters, half aren’t in the Flower Realm at all but are demon practitioners who have Entered Demon.

As long as they don’t drop the last string of reason and wallow in slaughter, there’s not much difference to the naked eye; call yourself Flower Realm and—poof—you’re Flower Realm.

They had their excuses ready, too.

“Those orthodox prodigies” have every meridian blasted open from childhood, spoon-fed elixirs as baby food, drilling vetted divine arts—so sure, they reach the Flower Realm by the proper road.

But how are we of the Evil Path or we drifters supposed to “by chance” find elixirs and learn divine arts to reach a proper state?

So the three read the moment.

Right in front of them, a Blood Sect witch suddenly tried to Enter Demon.

The three shouted in chorus.

“Kill that bitch!”

“Do not let her be!”

“Strangle the madwoman right now! Now! This is urgent!”

Back in Qing’s homeland, no one would attack someone in the middle of awakening or transforming.

To attack during awakening or transformation is a grave crime rooted in such-and-such statutes, likely banned by international accords—a wicked act that smashes the rules themselves, a major taboo.

But in the primitive, ancient, uncivilized Central Plains, those stories hadn’t “developed” yet. When something looks fishy, you kill it quick—that’s the preferred style.

In their haste the three masters loosed qi bolts.

Qing’s body rocked, then toppled, crashing to the floor.

“Graaah!”

The target dropped out; the bolts overshot and smashed into the wrong warriors.

Still, they’d achieved the main objective; an acceptable loss.

The five spoiled flavors of color popped back into Qing’s body.

The colors went in before the ring completed.

Entering Demon canceled.

Dragged out by mortal danger, Qing shouted in a rush.

“Hey! Time out! Who attacks during this—so dirty! Gimme a second! Just wait a liiittle!”

“Silence! There’s a limit to making light of people—do you take this for a time to loftily attain a state?”

“It’s not dirty! This is an ill—ill—ill— ###, what’s ### in Central Plains speech?”

Amukhalab had asked, but who here understood the Western Regions tongue?

Amukhalab himself.

And Qing, equipped with universal interpretation.

“Ah! That’s ‘art of war’! Tactics!”

“Ah, art of war! Thank you, madwoman! In return, I gift you a wondrous great palm!”

The dried lama monk’s skinny palm leveled at Qing.

It swelled at once; a bloody, qi-forged hand-shadow surged at her.

Only—the projectile’s speed was neither fast nor slow, irritatingly in-between.

“Repaying grace with enmity!”

Qing snapped, twisting away.

The bloody hand banked to follow her!

So that’s why it felt weirdly slow—it’s homing?!

Qing jolted, then simply melted flat to the floor.

The red hand-shadow skimmed past by a hair.

Before Qing could catch a breath, the world suddenly dimmed.

Of the three Flower Realm idiots—the Evil Path sect lord, the fat one, and the barbarian—the fat one was the flying round pig: Pobidon Jang Sonam.

A colossal globe of flesh, height, width, and depth all the same.

He stretched out the limbs buried in lard; something like a turtle or terrapin fell like a meteor.

Oh, come on.

Qing shot both hand-knives straight forward, fingertips razor-keen.

Lesser Demonic Art, seventh move—Fox Covets the Liver. Twice, left and right.

The sly fox covets the liver.

The very move Qing used to slip bare-handed into people’s chests and pluck out hearts.

Her vicious hand-qi that went in and out of human flesh like her own front door ran down her long fingers.

And then that giant belly dropped over Qing!

Her vicious double hand-strikes—one to either front-side flank—thunk.

Qi-hardened hands slid into Pobidon’s belly.

They sank past the wrists, deep—yet her fingertips still felt that stubborn, tough skin.

Softness overcomes hardness—but flesh thick enough stops the Lesser Demonic Art.

“Aw, hell—”

Boom! Crunch—grrrind!

Pobidon’s belly-bombardment buried Qing; a thunderous crash gouged a huge crater.

Stone chips fountained out.

Tons of belly pinned Qing.

A crushing pressure bore down across her torso.

“Kh—!”

Qing forced out what breath she had.

She—she couldn’t breathe...!

She heaved with inhuman strength to shove the meat off—but her hands only sank and wallowed in the blubber; the weight never lightened.

What kind of damned martial art is this...!

She thrashed, pushed, clawed; her fingers only slid through the yielding fat, carving ripples, slipping—ugh, the breath—the bones—the bones...!

Her lungs shrank; empty pain where space should be.

Under the mass crushing her chest, her ribs screamed for help in savage agony.

With her chest pinned like that, her lungs couldn’t inflate; no matter how she tried to draw air, nothing came.

Her blood hammered, ready to smash her vessels; the pain of asphyxia wrung her whole body like a towel.

“Urk—hah—huk—hah—breath—can’t—”

She thrashed—and went limp.

Only then did Pobidon roll off, bouncing up like an air-stuffed ball, then thunk—landed lightly on two feet.

Two other masters ran up in high spirits—then halted, blocked by Pobidon’s hulking mass.

“Heh heh heh. Where do you think you’re going? This deranged witch—I caught her. Isn’t that right? By the laws of the martial world, the one who catches her owns her.”

“Sorry, the matter is what it is—we’ve no choice. But very well. You’ve just reconfirmed Pobidon’s renown; take the witch, and hand over the Absorbing Qi Demonic Art. Even if it’s not that, the bitch clearly learned a solid demonic art or two.”

Pobidon’s face curdled.

A lama monk cut in.

“Wait! I contributed to this! Made madwoman lie down! I, too, should receive divine art!”

Pobidon cleanly ignored him.

“Come now, why be like this? How many eyes are watching—don’t be so petty. A man who leads a sect of the Evil Path, behaving so?”

“Treasure should pass to those with power to keep it. We know Pobidon’s fame isn’t empty—but even so, can you shoulder the public achievements of the martial world alone?”

“Ahem.”

“So: take that mad witch, roast her or boil her or screw her or pound her and draw out her demonic arts to learn. We’ll take the Absorbing Qi Demonic Art. In exchange, if you wish, you may stay in Jeollak Fortress. I’ll treat you with the honors of a Heavenly Venerate.”

“Hmmm...”

Pobidon’s brow twitched.

Not a bad deal.

Maybe it was time to hang up the drifter life and settle with a respectable sect.

Jeollak Fortress might be Evil Path, but it was among the top ten under heaven; Heavenly Venerate—elder rank—wasn’t bad.

Amukhalab suddenly bellowed.

“Wait! I demand reward! You conniving Central Plains monkeys—dare you covet offerings presented to the Buddha! You little chilies that can’t even get hard! I’ll make you seedless chilies!”

Jeollak Fortress Holy Lord Jung Gichung and Pobidon Jang Sonam traded a look.

Some wordless accord—Jung Gichung slid in to take position at Pobidon’s side.

Two against one.

Amukhalab’s meatless face flushed a bursting crimson—and then—

“Hey—!”

“Holy Lord! Behind you! Behind!”

“That bitch! She’s doing it again!”

Jung Gichung and Jang Sonam spun around in a rush.

They saw Qing limp on the ground, whites showing—and that baleful color about to close into a ring again.

“You whore! Up to your tricks again!”

Jung Gichung sprang, great saber raised high.

Upside-down, Qing’s pupils snapped into focus.

Playing dead—failed. Damn shame.

She rolled her feet, planted both hands, spun three times—whip-whip-whip—then clicked to a landing.

The great saber smashed the innocent floor; Qing barked:

“Seriously? Too much! How does a so-called Flower Realm master go three-on-one against a delicate woman—so dirty! You filthy bastards! You call yourselves men? Hey, barbarian baldy had a point! Cut their dicks off, cut ’em off!”

“You—!”

Jung Gichung roared, but Qing wasn’t watching him; her eyes were on the fat one.

What kind of flesh was bulletproof flesh?

She saw Jang Sonam’s legs bend, lowering—she yelled:

“Wait! We might have a misunderstanding. I scattered the Absorbing Star Great Law manual pieces over there and—uh—looks like everyone picked them up?”

The “treasure room” had a different mood entirely now.

The scavengers clutching the torn manual pieces Qing had shredded were locked in a suffocating game of chicken, eyeing one another’s scraps.

“Either way, the manual’s not on me anymore, right? If what you want is the Absorbing Qi Demonic Art, how about you try a little jigsaw over there?”

“Please. A bitch who’s collected every demonic art under the sun wouldn’t tear and toss the Absorbing Qi Demonic Art.”

“Gods, the distrust. I, Eon Yeonyeong, never speak lies. Not once in my life have I lied—pure as driven snow—purity itself—the avatar of purity—that’s me, Eon Yeonyeong—no, Eo Nyeonyeong—no, Eon—Yeon—yeong.”

“A bitch who calls herself ‘peerless smile girl’ and whatnot—pure? The world’s purity must have withered and died.”

“Why not! I can be Peerless Thunder-Smile Girl! By my standards I’m the greatest beauty of all ages! Beauty standards differ by person! How are you so unsophisticated? Will you respect my standards?”

“Woman utterly gone mad. A mouth bored through that leaks lies. You’ll arrive in hell and tan your tongue.”

“Barbarian, shut your mouth. Can’t you see grownups are talking? You dare butt into a human conversation? Did your master say you could?”

“####! ####Eo Nyeonyeong##! ########!”

The flood of curses defied decent tongues.

Of course, Qing understood.

But she wasn’t the one being cursed anyway, so it hit for zero.

They were cursing Eon Yeonyeong, not me.

“Well then—alright, lady, why don’t you come over here and frisk me? See if I’ve got a manual or not?”

—Cut the crap. I know you didn’t tear a divine art.

Jung Gichung’s voice skimmed her ear in sound transmission.

Qing looked; in his hand he’d palmed one of the scattered scraps.

Two characters on the ragged piece: Heart-Plucking.

“Aw, hell.”

Still, the way he told her in secret said he didn’t want to drag in the scavengers hosting the All-Under-Heaven Grand Jigsaw in the back.

Qing’s eyes lit.

Oh? If you don’t want me to—then I absolutely should.

She drew a deep breath and bellowed:

“Behold! The preface to the Absorbing Star Great Law! ‘Qi flows through the world; warriors tame and harbor it; we call it inner qi—and true qi. Yet the qi of heaven and earth is like a wild stallion in its ferocity, like wolves and tigers in its savagery, and like a mountain hare in its fear! Thus to accept true qi into the body and break it to the rein is a task as daunting as Moving Mountains!’”

Heads snapped away from their little poker game over scraps.

“If so—why must we insist on gathering the qi of nature? Does not already exist a human-tamed, docile true qi? The world is survival of the fittest; devouring one another to grow one’s strength is the Way of non-action and nature! I, this humble Daoist, transpose my enlightenment: I name it the Absorbing Star Great Law!”

In truth, that was the preface to the Heart-Plucking Art.

She’d only swapped the final name to “Absorbing Star Great Law.”

“That crazy bitch!”

“Stop her! Shut her up!”

Warriors surged.

Qing sprang; balefire spun in her eyes. She swept black and white hand-edges with left and right, guarding all sides.

The first wave skidded to a stop.

“The Absorbing Star Great Law is in my head! Everyone! Listen to me!”

Her wicked tongue danced.

“You so-called elites already cradle famous divine arts and still your greed drives you to snatch more!

But why did you set foot in this death trap?

Isn’t it that desperate resolve to stake your lives on divine art and carve your names into history?

Then let me, Eon Yeonyeong,

right here, pass on the mnemonic verses of the Absorbing Star Great Law!

Look who’s trying to stop me—

those calling themselves Flower Realm!

And the dogs of the Ten Evil Celestial Sects!”

“They’re the haves already!

Isn’t this ploy just to monopolize divine arts and raise the wall they’ve already built even higher?

So, my sorrowing common folk!

Even knowing the odds are one in a thousand, one in ten-thousand—ridiculous!

You desperate souls who came here staking your lives!”

“Protect me, all of you! Then I will recite the mnemonic verses of the divine art!”

Qing’s blood-stirring roar rang the stone chamber like a bell.

“Whose are divine arts? Are they not all of ours? Divine arts must not be privatized by one person or one faction—they are common wealth!”

“Shut that bitch’s mouth!”

“What are you doing! Kill—no, don’t kill! Keep her alive!”

“Look! A ghost is wandering here before your eyes! The very ghost they fear—the new future where everyone shares divine arts! The haves, afraid they can no longer exploit you, rush to gag our mouths and block the ideal world where all share divine arts!”

One by one, eyes turned seditious—even among some of the Ten Evil Celestial Sects.

After all, even if you risk your life to seize a divine art, only the high-and-mighty will ever get to practice it.

Qing, hoarse yet still full of force, thundered:

“I will lead from the front and share the greatest divine art under heaven! Stand together against those vile oppressors! Revolution is not a crime, rebellion has its reasons! Revolution is innocent! Rebellion is justified! Rise together and seize the future! The four seas are one family—together as sibling-disciples we will unify the world under heaven!”

And behind her rolled thunderous acclaim:

“Right!” “Revolution is innocent! Rebellion is justified!” “She speaks truth!” “Divine arts belong to all!”