The bonfire inside the cave crackled loudly, and a stray spark landed on the back of Ye Fan's hand, but he didn't seem to feel it at all. The ancient text of "Changsheng" inside his Inner World glowed with a faint light, and wisps of black mist were seeping out from where the dharma idol had burrowed, echoing the surging black tide outside the cave.
"Zhaoyue's sword qi is trembling." Su Qingxue's fingertips rested on the strings of her zither, the outer corners of her eyes lifting slightly—a sign that she had killing intent. Her plain white wide sleeves hung down, yet the silver bells on her wrists made not the slightest sound. "The smell of rotting corpses is mixed with the scent of cold plums." At the word "cold plums," an extremely slight tremor rolled through her throat; that was the exclusive tracking fragrance of Hanmei Pavilion, used only by the pavilion master's personal guards.
Lin Zhaoyue's sword hilt suddenly grew scorching hot, sending a numbing shock through the webbing of her thumb and forefinger. The sword intent of the Taichu Sword Canon rampaged through her meridians, condensing into two clusters of cold light deep within her eyes. She pressed the scabbard with the back of her hand, her knuckles turning white from the force. "The bones of the walking corpses have sword-nails embedded in them." As the Saintess of the Cangwu Sword Sect, she was all too familiar with her sect's standard-issue weapons—sword-nails were used specifically to suppress souls. "The s…
Chapter 249