Chapter Nineteen: Protecting Song Mo, Tang Yi Is Wounded; The Sword Command Gravely Injures Zhao Nu

Tang Yi gently wiped the bloodstains from his willow-leaf blade, his eyes cold as he stared at Zhao Nu across from him and ordered in a low voice, "Bow down, and I won't kill you."

Zhao Nu glanced at the scattered corpses of the Turkic Wolf Guards on the ground, his expression growing darker. "Courting death!"

A bamboo hat, carried by a fierce gust, suddenly smashed toward Tang Yi's face. Tang Yi swung his blade, splitting the hat in two. Through the gap, a crescent scimitar slashed toward him.

The blade gleamed, slicing through shadows, severing the clouds in an instant.

It was the fifteenth day of the eighth month, thirteenth year of Jian'an, in the Western Market, Qintai Ward.

At the beginning of the hour of the dog.

Zhao Nu removed his hat, and Song Mo, seeing the face beneath, was struck with terror. He knew this man—none other than the ruthless Turkic Gu Master.

"Be careful, he's the Turkic man who uses Gu insects," Song Mo called out from behind the door, watching as the blades of Tang Yi and Zhao Nu clashed ever faster. Fearing Tang Yi might fall victim to Zhao Nu's Gu insects, he spoke up to warn him.

Tang Yi, hearing this, flicked his willow-leaf blade. The slender, agile blade spun into a graceful pattern, blocking all of Zhao Nu's attacks. He retreated two steps, wary.

Zhao Nu was startled as well. Their earlier bout had made him realize Tang Yi was a formidable opponent. If he didn't devise an escape soon, he might not survive once the patrolmen from the Six Gates arrived. Just as he prepared to unleash his Gu insects for a surprise attack, Song Mo's warning reached Tang Yi.

Could they be from the Great Zhou Demon Suppression Bureau?

Zhao Nu covertly sized up Song Mo, who hid behind the door. The man's shabby attire clearly wasn't that of a Demon Suppressor.

Was this a bluff? Zhao Nu's heart sank, and he subtly raised his scimitar.

Song Mo, seeing Zhao Nu glance at him, forced himself to meet his gaze. He knew one should never show fear when facing a wolf, lest one become its prey.

"I can't wait any longer. Sumu Hak must not be lost," Zhao Nu thought, summoning his Gu insects.

Song Mo felt a foul wind sweep over him. Years spent eking out a living among the underworld had made him sensitive to such sinister things.

"Not good—he's making his move!" Song Mo shouted.

Tang Yi held his blade across his chest. Autumn wind scattered pear blossoms, swirling through the air.

Upon closer inspection, Tang Yi noticed something amiss.

The pear blossoms were snowy white, drifting with the wind. But what floated faster and whiter than the blossoms were not flowers, but a species of moth Gu.

These moth Gu, wings dusted with snow and antennae tinted pale brown, blended seamlessly with the pear blossoms, making it nearly impossible to distinguish between them.

The blossoms divided into three clusters in the air. One drifted to the ground, while the other two flew toward Tang Yi and Song Mo.

Tang Yi's willow-leaf blade danced with a spill of silver light, slicing the approaching moth Gu cleanly in half, sending them and the blossoms tumbling to the ground together.

"What cunning!" Tang Yi said coldly, glaring at Zhao Nu.

"What skill," Zhao Nu replied, unable to help but praise Tang Yi despite his failed attack.

Though his strike missed, Zhao Nu had discerned Song Mo's true identity and formed a new plan.

"Watch the blade!" Zhao Nu shouted, his scimitar tracing a crescent arc through the air, lunging for Tang Yi's abdomen.

Tang Yi, his willow-leaf blade already poised across his chest, calmly raised the tip to meet Zhao Nu's scimitar.

With a metallic clang, the willow-leaf blade struck the back of the scimitar. Zhao Nu's attack, intimidating as it seemed, felt wrong to Tang Yi as he made contact.

It was a feint.

Tang Yi, frowning, caught Zhao Nu's sneer and saw something hidden in his left hand.

At the same moment, Song Mo sensed danger—the old fox seemed to be targeting him.

Before Song Mo could react, Zhao Nu flung the object in his hand toward him.

It happened in a flash. Song Mo smelled a nauseating stench. When he focused, he nearly lost his soul from fright.

Zhao Nu had thrown not a mere object, but a gold-armored centipede over half a foot long.

Its carapace bore a thousand golden dots, its hundred legs shone yellow-red, and it spewed black smoke from its mouth. Clearly, it was no ordinary venomous creature, but Zhao Nu's life-bound Gu.

The Thousand-Tail Centipede.

Centipedes are born fierce, and their legs often break during struggles. To craft a complete Thousand-Tail Centipede requires immense effort, so Zhao Nu rarely revealed it, keeping it as his trump card.

Unable to overcome Tang Yi, Zhao Nu, desperate to escape, finally unleashed his Thousand-Tail Centipede in a sneak attack on Song Mo.

Song Mo saw the filthy creature lunging for him. He wanted to flee, but the centipede struck like a whirlwind, and he had no martial skills to rely on.

His talisman was still in his pocket; it was too late to retrieve it. He couldn't use his much-trusted Fleetfoot Horse technique, and panic drained the color from his face.

With the centipede nearly upon him and nowhere to run, Song Mo closed his eyes in despair.

He thought, "My fate is sealed."

First, he heard the clang of metal, then a tearing sound—the unmistakable slice of a blade through flesh.

Yet Song Mo felt no pain. He opened his eyes to see a figure wielding the willow-leaf blade standing before him.

It was Tang Yi!

Tang Yi's back was to him, and Song Mo saw clearly that a wound seven or eight inches long had been opened by Zhao Nu's scimitar, exposing bone.

"My precious is impervious to blade or spear," Zhao Nu sneered, looking down on Tang Yi.

The Thousand-Tail Centipede coiled on Zhao Nu's back, making Song Mo shudder.

"Are you alright?" Song Mo saw Tang Yi's complexion pale even further and was seized by a sense of dread.

Tang Yi braced himself with his willow-leaf blade to avoid collapsing, biting his lip as he glared at Zhao Nu. "His blade...is poisoned."

Song Mo rushed forward to support Tang Yi, who, unable to hold on, slumped into Song Mo's arms.

"He's a true man—you owe him your life," Zhao Nu said, retrieving his Thousand-Tail Centipede and turning to leave.

Zhao Nu did not finish off Song Mo or Tang Yi—not out of mercy, but because Tang Yi had delayed him too long and he couldn't predict when the Six Gates patrolmen would arrive.

"Injuring people and leaving—I'm afraid that's against the laws of Great Zhou," a figure blocked Zhao Nu's path. Dressed in black, wielding a longsword, peach blossom eyes cold as frost.

It was Jiang Wanyi, who had hurried over after receiving Tang Yi's message.

"You think you can just leave? What are you going to do about it?" Zhao Nu scoffed, seeing only a frail woman before him and holding her in contempt.

Jiang Wanyi pointed her sword calmly. "This is not Turkic territory, but your field of carnage."

"Boastful fool," Zhao Nu snarled, his scimitar whirling faster than before.

"Well met!" Jiang Wanyi called, her sword weaving like a dragon to entangle the scimitar.

Zhao Nu felt a tremendous force, forcing him to let go of his weapon.

The scimitar shattered under Jiang Wanyi's blow, and Zhao Nu looked down to see his right hand torn open.

"How powerful!" Zhao Nu's eyes narrowed. The contempt in his gaze vanished, replaced by deep wariness.

"Bring out your best, or my next strike will kill you," Jiang Wanyi said lightly, as if plucking a flower.

Song Mo glanced at the poised Jiang Wanyi. His first impression was her slenderness; then her dominance, more forceful than anyone he had ever met.

"A gentleman may be slain, but never humiliated!" Zhao Nu realized Jiang Wanyi was far stronger than he, but as a Turkic Gu Master, he would not abandon his dignity.

He threw out the Thousand-Tail Centipede, then struck his chest with a fierce palm, spitting a mouthful of heart's blood onto the centipede.

With the heart's blood, the life-bound Gu became even more ferocious, while Zhao Nu turned deathly pale, his hair whitening and face shriveling—aged decades in an instant.

Jiang Wanyi calmly tossed aside her sword, forming a sword gesture with her right hand, and intoned, "This sword is of uncommon iron, awakened by the touch, moved by the heart, quickened by blood, destroyed by evil intent. Sword Control Technique!"

As she finished, the longsword gathered killing aura from all sides. Her sword gesture fell, and a dazzling beam of sword light enveloped the blade, piercing the charging Thousand-Tail Centipede.

Sword fell, Gu perished.

Sword Control Technique: purging evil, banishing demons.

"The Sword Control Formula..." In that moment, Song Mo felt his world overturned. There truly were practitioners of mystic arts in this world.

If so, what else—demons and monsters?

Jiang Wanyi did not spare Zhao Nu a glance as he collapsed to the ground, but walked toward Song Mo.

"Tang Yi, your life belongs to me." Jiang Wanyi roughly lifted Tang Yi's face, stuffed a pill into his mouth, and turned away.

Ah, this?

Feeding him in public?

Song Mo stood bewildered in the wind.