136 If not love (1/2)

There was no time.

That was the thought that took over Yuan Xuelan's mind as his focus narrowed. Huo Tang was surely tweaking things in his mind because be could count at least ten steps into the future.

Liu Sumeng sat against the wall, slumped.

There was a deep dent in the opposite wall, where the Guanghai Elder had been thrown into, who was now assaulted by a wave of coughs.

It would take half a breath for Yuan Xuelan to get up, close the distance between himself and the elder while swinging in his sword. He needed to do all those things in a quarter of a breath instead.

But he could. Fire was trickling through his veins and he did. Stood up, a semi pivot. A swing. The bright glow of fire was a line through the air.

Liu Langce could not fully recover when Silei's blazing edge was upon him, coming down at frightening speeds. He was barely able to parry, left arm caught in the fire before he could dodge and counterattack.

When Yuan Xuelan was truly focused, he was a terrifying opponent that could make even gods shudder. The masked man however, was not fearful of losing face and using underhanded tactics.

”Dearest Young Master Yuan,” he croaked between dodging thrusts and parrying slashes. His voice was hoarse from coughing, lips painted red from blood expelled from his internal organs. ”Should you really be fighting me right now?”

Yuan Xuelan saw how Liu Langce was moving toward his fallen Shijie and was quick to step in between. The slight startle was not enough to entirely break his concentration. When the scimitar came at him slashing, he used the back of his wrist to catch the momentum of Liu Langce's arm.

”The more time you waste on me, the faster your beloved will bleed out.”

There was a sparkle in Yuan Xuelan's eyes before they darkened, bristling at the provocation. But Yuan Xuelan was painfully quiet and unrelenting. Under normal circumstances, Yuan Xuelan knew that he could not match this Guanghai Elder, even with this extreme concentrated state. Currently, the man was injured and fighting illness. Only now, did he have a chance.

There would be no other chance. Yuan Xuelan could not falter now. He refused to be one who would fail Liu Sumeng, refused to be one who would betray his trust.

Chaos crept around the edges of his consciousness but Yuan Xuelan pursued. Step after step, slash after slash. Each clanging parrying, cuts won and lost he did not relent his aggressive pressure even in the slightest.

Liu Langce's next move was a step backward. He baited Yuan Xuelan's blow next to the windowed wall; creating a giant gaping hole.

Yuan Xuelan cursed, rushing forward with abandon. Though he cut the elder off by reaching out and grabbing his sleeve, pulling back. Luck was on his side, Liu Langce's chest was trembling from the onslaught of coughs he was holding back. The Guanghai Elder reacted a fraction too slow, but instead of tearing himself free he raised his sword and hacked down toward Yuan Xuelan's neck.

Another loud curse. Yuan Xuelan moved out of the enough to keep his life but the scimitar was now jammed against his collar bone. With a painful hiss, he threw the Guanghai Elder back in the room.

Liu Langce recovered quickly, while Yuan Xuelan staggered from exhaustion and blood loss. Now was the Guanghai Elder's chance. He held back the illness's ruthless assault and pivoted on his foot, regaining his stance.

It was a miracle that Yuan Xuelan could still block the attack that came for him at such frightening speeds. But when their blades locked it was clear that the young was losing strength, his entire arm trembled from strain.

Yet, Liu Langce never had the chance to cut Yuan Xuelan down. Because when Silei finally dropped out of the younger cultivator's hands, Liu Langce could not move an inch.

A silver blade, dressed in the red of his blood was poking out of his chest, entering through the his back with expert precision and piercing the heart.

The scimitar fell with a clatter and the ringing sound of a chiming bell. When Liu Langce coughed, a bucket of blood was expelled from his lips. The black mask finally slipped off his face, revealing bloodshot eyes and deep dark circles under his chin.

”You win this time,” a wispy voice rasped out. Mingshui extracted, Liu Langce fell to the ground, dead.

Yuan Xuelan, tired, staggered and lost his balance. A deep pain scratched in the deep part of his eye sockets and hammered away at his skull. He wanted to puke from the nausea that he felt. But in front of him was Liu Langce's death mask with unblinking eyes. Satisfaction was neither warm nor cold but Yuan Xuelan focused on the feeling anyway.

A pair of white boots, though already dirty, stepped around the pooling blood. When Yuan Xuelan looked up, his blurring vision struggled to make out Liu Sumeng's handsome features. He squinted and slapped his own cheek, forcing his eyesight to sharpen.

There seemed to be the slightest of smiles on Liu Sumeng's lips. An open hand in front of him. Yuan Xuelan accepted it without a word and let himself be pulled to his feet. But the Ivory Sword Saint's strength was a little compromised; the two of them swayed a little before finding balance. Mingshui cluttered to the ground, joining the other swords now lying there.

A light chuckle left Liu Sumeng's mouth that thawed all the worry and anger festering in Yuan Xuelan's heart.