796 To Write in the Sky (2/2)

The Vermilion Bird Divine Talisman on the black cutlass suddenly lighted up.

Red fire erupted out of the blade and into the sky.

Now that the storm and snow ceased, countless pairs of eyes saw the blue sky revealing itself.

The fire that erupted out of the cutlass stretched more than ten miles. And as Ning Que moved the cutlass, it moved to all directions in the blue and polished sky.

The moving fire left burning marks on the blue sky, as if someone had written roughly in the sky with a pen as giant as a mountain.

One stroke stretched half of the sky, and nobody knew how long it was exactly.

As Ning Que lowered down the cutlass, the fire erupted followed to move downwards, and that was the beginning of the second stroke.

At the turret in the Imperial City.

Yu Lian looked up at the sky, silent. She was watching the fire moving between heaven and earth.

Then she glanced at the cutlass in her hand.

It was a large scarlet cutlass, two times longer and broader than herself.

The scarlet cutlass was the Halidom of the Devil's Doctrine. It had been kept by Tang Xiaotang since the Desolate moved south.

It was natural that Yu Lian could wield the cutlass since she was the Grandmaster of the Devil's Doctrine.

When the Abbey Dean was stepping forward on the snowy street, she came to the Imperial Palace for nothing but the cutlass.

Judging by the appearance, the scarlet cutlass in her hand was definitely more frightening and awesome than the one in Ning Que's hand.

But she knew that something about this cutlass had been missing when compared with the one in Ning Que's hand.

Ning Que could write with the cutlass.

”You've finally written down that character.”

Yu Lian saw the character in the blue sky coming into shape, and she suddenly took a deep breath.

As she breathed, the melting snow around the palace floated off the ground.

The ice in the moat cracked into pieces.

Endless air went flooding into her petite body as she breathed.

Her chest was slightly going up and down.

Her eyes grew brighter and brighter.

Everyone on the snowy street was looking at the sky.

Everyone in Chang'an was looking at the sky.

People watched the giant flaring pen writing in the blue sky.

Eldest Brother was also looking up at the sky.

There was no snow falling but his eyes were slightly wet.

He looked at the sky and thought to himself, ”Teacher, Youngest Brother has finally finished writing that character.”

Then he took a deep breath.

Nothing changed on the snowy street.

Even the fallen leaves on the melting snow hadn't shivered at all as he breathed.

His eyes grew brighter and brighter.

Blood kept oozing out of his cotton jacket.

Before the Pamir Mountains, the wooden dipper cracked.

The wooden rod was held in his hand.

He didn't know where he had put the old book.

The belt on his cotton jacket was free from things held by it, or worries.

Therefore, it started to flutter, leaving afterimages behind.

Ning Que looked at the Abbey Dean and hacked.

The cutlass in his hand had to fall on the Abbey Dean.

So he had to hack accurately.

Ning Que's and the Abbey Dean's eyes met in the middle of the street.

He saw nothing but peace in the Abbey Dean's eyes.

Even the snowflakes floating in the air turned peaceful.

The light squeezing sound made by piled snow became low.

The fleeting time slowed down.

The Abbey Dean's voice echoed in his sense of perception.

”You wrote in the wrong order.”

Yet Ning Que didn't worry at all.

Because nobody could manipulate time, except Buddha.

The Abbey Dean couldn't do it, either. He was slowing down time with great power, but he himself was also inside slowed-down time, which meant that the cutlass would eventually cut him no matter how slowly it had been wielded.

He said to the Abbey Dean, ”The order of the stroke was wrong, but the character is right.”

The Abbey Dean's voice went off for a moment and came back again.

His voice was sentimental, full of complicated emotions.

”Nice calligraphy.”