Chapter 97 – When the Heavens Weep (II)

Chapter 97

When the Heavens Weep (II)

Flames roared like beasts from every direction–the walls of the Spirit Sword Sect began to radiate a red glow, veins of fire throbbing across their surfaces, heat bleeding into the valley itself, distorting the air as it passed.

Screams of pain and agony joined the symphony of the crackling fires and explosions and the swords being drawn from their sheaths. The battle was less so a singular charge and more a splintered set of skirmishes. Young versus young, old versus old, blood was spilled as though most natural.

“Dammit, retreat! I’ll cover!”

“Get into the Seven Sword Formation!”

“The flank is falling!”

Voices were barely audible in the cacophony of other sounds, yet remained heard by all as everyone’s ears were perked up for the next command.

Bit by bit, bodies were piling up–on both sides. There were just as many crimson robes of flames sprawled and ridden with cuts and holes as there were white and black robes of the Spirit Sword Sect.

Daoist Mu took charge of helping the young kids retreat from the front line as they got caught up on it by accident before they could run away. He wielded the sword rapidly, deflecting the whips of fire falling toward him by the two Deacons of the Fire Sun Sect that he clashed often with in his youth.

His body was riddled with wounds, yet he endured, ignoring the pulsing pain.

An array of flames suddenly shot from behind the two of them, surprising him. He had a choice of dodging, which would let the array hit the kids behind him, or hurriedly putting up a barrier that wouldn’t hold up–but he had to try.

Gnashing his teeth, he summoned as much Qi as he could and slashed downwardly, roaring at the top of his lungs.

But it wasn’t enough.

He barely stalled the ten-foot-long array of flames for a moment before his sword shattered. The last thing he saw was the world consumed by flames, and he could only mutter a single thing: “Run…”

Elder Swordlight zapped backwards, his silhouette a trap for six of his attackers; he wove between the raging inferno gracefully, stabbing rapidly six times in a row and swiftly killing them all.

Yet, his downcast and angry expression hardly showed any respite.

The Sect was burning.

His home was turning into an ashen graveyard, being buried under the rubble of the same mountains they used to worship.

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“ANCESTORS ARE HERE!!”

A roar seemed to kindle some strength in the souls falling back as they stood their ground stiffly. He glanced back over his shoulder and saw sixteen shadows descend from the sky in the flurry of swordlight.