Chapter 285: The Big Picture Is Settled |
"Kill!" Su Xiao snarled, and he sprang forward with the blade's flash.
His blade work was steady; the first slash aimed for the fish-man's knee tendon.
"pu!"
The edge skimmed across the thick hide, nearly slipping off.
The Turbid Clan fish-man didn't even flinch. It snatched up its fan-like giant palm and swept with a windlike whoosh.
Su Xiao dropped into a low roll.
Just as he was adjusting his breath and preparing to counterattack, two loud splashes erupted from the mud on either side.
Left and right, two more equally fat Turbid Clan fish-men slowly rose from their hiding pits, cutting him off from the squad behind.
Six murky yellow eyes fixed on him through the rain curtain.
Su Xiao lifted his head, listening to all directions, spun once, and avoided the wind-voice coming from the rear.
Two Artisan Clan fish-men rushed in with harpoons raised.
They moved nimbly; one crawled low, rolled, and thrust the harpoon with a slick motion that gave Su Xiao the eerie illusion of seeing a fish hauled ashore.
"You guys block the people behind. We'll take this one," Qin Ziwu said, stepping out brandishing his spear.
He glanced at Su Xiao and smiled. "I heard that in Blood Script's upper ranks there's an expert who once single-handedly cut through an entire floor with a blade. That was you?"
Su Xiao lowered his eyelids without answering.
He retreated slowly, looking for an opening.
"Boring. Instructor Du says you only improve by fighting life-or-death matches with experts. Perfect chance to test your weight," Qin Ziwu said, flicking his wrist. The spear tip sliced the rain, blooming three spear bursts that aimed straight for Su Xiao's face.
Su Xiao crossed his twin blades to parry the spear and prepared to counterattack.
On the left, a Turbid Clan fish-man gave a low roar and swung a pillar-like arm toward Su Xiao's flank.
Su Xiao's movement paused; he withdrew in time and rolled to evade.
As he landed, the Turbid Clan fish-man on the right leapt forward in a bound.
"!"
The mud at Su Xiao's previous position splashed up; the Turbid Clan fish-man fell like a boulder.
Su Xiao performed a forward flip and, coming down, whipped a blade across, striking the fish-man's face.
That slash was swift and fierce, carving a scar across the Turbid Clan fish-man's face.
He had already discovered these monsters' weak points: you could no longer hack them down as before. Instead, you needed to slash—quick, slicing motions.
"pu~"
No sooner had he landed than Qin Ziwu's spear arrived, dangerously grazing past his ear and leaving a line of blood.
Had he dodged a hair slower, the spear would have struck his brow.
From the rain curtain at the rear came more cries of killing.
"They've set an ambush," Su Xiao sighed softly. This defeat was fate.
Lacking even one of favorable timing, terrain, or allies is like being a rotten corpse at home.
He had planned a risky gambit to escape death.
But great risk often invites great defeat.
He glanced up at the gray, hazy sky.
A resolute chill flickered across his eyes.
"Kill."
No more relying on luck. Discarding everything else, he charged straight at Qin Ziwu.
He rolled forward, blades like full moons, the blade flow like a long river.
Ten consecutive strikes, each driving relentlessly forward.
Qin Ziwu parried the first nine; on the tenth, his spear skewed.
Qin Ziwu changed the move into a thrust aimed at Su Xiao's chest.
Su Xiao laughed and instead of retreating pushed forward.
The spear pierced through his chest; the blade in his hand sliced across Qin Ziwu's cheek.
Qin Ziwu grunted, his head jolting, flesh parting on his face as blood welled out like tears.
He tried to pull the spear back, but the other end was clutched tight in Su Xiao's grip.
Su Xiao raised his arm, about to hurl the long blade.
"whist—"
The sound of something tearing through the air shredded the rain.
A black short spear shot straight for Su Xiao's brow.
Years of martial training made him instinctively turn to evade, but a second short spear in the rain struck like a vicious snake, hitting his shoulder.
His arm went numb; his blade hand could no longer hold on.
With a clank, the long blade hit the ground.
A nearby Turbid Clan fish-man pressed down in time, pinning Su Xiao beneath it so he could not move.
On the hillside, Yan Da and Yan San's footsteps were like wind as they rushed down.
Seeing Qin Ziwu's face, Yan Da yelled in alarm, "Someone come quick! Protect Young Master Wu, I'll carry you back!"
Qin Ziwu raised his head; a ragged wound ran from his forehead across his nose, cheek, and the corner of his mouth.
That cut nearly split his head in two—if Su Xiao's blade had been a little longer...
"I'm fine," Qin Ziwu said, lifting a hand to stop Yan Da from hauling him off. He didn't push to keep fighting. "Does anyone have a hat or something to block the rain?"
Yan San quickly handed over a straw hat, the one he had been wearing earlier.
Once Qin Ziwu put the hat on to keep the rain off, he calmed dramatically, pulled a water gourd from his waist containing the Healing Spring, and drank deeply.
He felt the bleeding slow and a tingly numbness spread through him.
His mind was full of Su Xiao's relentless blade technique from moments ago, and that blade flash that shone like a round moon.
A chill of fear rose in his chest.
He had almost died.
Listening through the rain curtain, he could barely hear the shouts from behind.
Approximately ten minutes passed.
The cries of killing gradually died down.
Cao Biansheng, armored and ready, led a group of spear-bearing, well-trained Qin Alliance elites, along with three hundred able-bodied men from the urban village who had come to assist, and a number of Artisan Clan fish-men who had joined the fight, back onto the scene.
Seeing this, Qin Ziwu steadied inwardly. "The big picture is settled."
After saying that, a wave of dizziness hit him; he had lost too much blood and felt faint when he walked.
"What the hell happened to you? Did someone actually crack your skull?" Cao Biansheng was startled by Qin Ziwu's condition.
He quickly took out the half-drunk Healing Spring from his own pack. "Drink more, don't die on me."
"I'm fine." Qin Ziwu said it, but took the bottle honestly and gulped the contents down.
He glanced at the wound on Cao Biansheng's body. "I'll refill the rest of your spring when we get back."
"Don't worry about that," Cao Biansheng waved magnanimously. Seeing Qin Ziwu's strong tone, he relaxed for the moment, convinced he wouldn't die.
When they returned to the urban village, Qin Ziwen saw the deep slash wound on his younger brother's face and listened as he described the battlefield's danger. He only nodded. "Mm. You and the other injured go rest and recover first."
The others in Qin Alliance, seeing Qin Ziwu's wound, were stunned and felt an inexplicable emotion.
Even the Guild Leader's own brother had fought shoulder-to-shoulder with them on the battlefield.
After the wounded left, Qin Ziwen asked Yan Da in detail what had happened. Yan Da recounted everything without leaving out a detail.
He and Yan San had thrown those short spears. The three brothers had prowled rivers and lakes for years and mastered excellent spear-throwing skills.
"Hmm. He can still talk and move. Just external wounds, he'll recover." Qin Ziwen nodded. "But Blood Script lost a chunk of their elite force this time; internally they probably can't hold it together, right?"
In fact, the real situation was even more serious than Qin Ziwen guessed.
They had taken a heavy loss; a large number of personnel were wiped out, plunging an already low morale into deeper decline. Blood Script's control over the lower ranks weakened. That night, seven fires broke out inside Red Cauldron Tower.
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