Chapter 236 – Legend of the Masked Children (VI)

Chapter 236

Legend of the Masked Children (VI)

With one step, Xi Zhao found himself blurred against the shadow stirrings; having expected it, he remained calm, waiting for the undulating tendrils of darkness to bleed back into ether, revealing a world slightly different than the one he left.

He was once again up on the stage, a squared construct of stone, but now there was no sea of souls cheering, no noise, and no wind howling. There was only him and some sixty other figures that appeared on the opposite end.

He’d still donned his mask, as Senior Brother told him to always have it on even if it restricted his field of view slightly. And the figures opposite of him had cloaks and masks, too, shielding their expressions–though just from their gazes, he could tell they were startled and confused.

“Who are you?” one among them asked, but Xi Zhao didn’t bother responding.

Instead, he took a deep breath and clutched at the sword’s handle, the one given to him by Master; all of them were at least in the middle of Foundation Establishment, with two even being in the middle of the Spirit Manifestation Realm. He himself had just touched upon the middle stages of Foundation Establishment and was very much aware of how vast the breadth between them was.

… but he could not fail.

His Master was a creature blessed by the heavens; Senior Brother Tao was the tip of the spear that could cleave the skies open; Senior Sister Xiu was a giant that could hold those very skies from falling; Senior Sister Wan was a vast ocean that could swallow the world; and even Junior Sister Light, a child that barely reached up to his waist, was a roar waiting to shake the world.

Compared to them, he was a candle’s flame in the wind–ever fearful that, with one strong gust, he’d be extinguished. He was lacking, and he was aware of it.

… thus, he could not fail.

Today was about defending themselves from the incursion as much as it was about him proving, largely to himself, that he deserved to stand by his Master’s side. That, come whatever may, he would not hold them back.

He swore he’d become his Master’s blade, one that could cut the Divine Will itself with a singular swing of the sword, and today… he had to prove it.

He’d just let go of his breath when his fingers tingled with Qi, the handle of the sword trembling as he drew it out of the scabbard. It was a singular, swift motion, causing the sword to cry as the metal of the blade met the metal of the scabbard, weeping out like an awakened banshee.

Qi turned from a gentle blow to a torrent of destruction within a breath, all coalescing within the arrayed path of that swing; the space itself turned trembling, and holes began to gape, offering glimpses of the actual reality where he saw masses running away.

… but he could not be distracted.

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