57 The Heart of Wuji I (2/2)
Through her eyes, they saw determination... and death.
Meeting her gaze, the man leading the team felt his heart twitch, as he subconsciously retreated with a shout. His movement was so sudden that those behind, unable to slow down in time, slammed into him, causing a huge fuss to break out.
Before the commotion died down Meng Fuyao made a move. She flung her sleeve backward charged toward them like a missile.
Meng Fuyao moved so quickly that her body created a black arc while shooting through the air. Before those around could even register that presence, she had already entered their circle and raised her blade.
Shing!
In a flash, the blade ray spread like a white rainbow under the pale sun, pouring down onto the heads of everyone.
Thrust, jab, pierce, split.
Body reclined, elbows out, leg forward, low kick, trample.
The contact between bodies was temporary and spark-like, but each touch blossomed into a huge blood flower, one after another in different spots.
Her posture when dashing into the crowd was like a black hurricane, passing through the fort made of longswords and muscles. Wherever she passed a blood rain occurred, and the way she thrust and retracted her blade was extremely fast. To her, there seemed not to be a difference between cutting lives and cutting grass.
There was a time to be decisive and to attack, or even kill. When threatened, Meng Fuyao would not give herself time to hesitate.
This was a noiseless massacre. Every strike of her blade was targeted at their acupuncture points, preventing them from uttering a sound to alarm more citizens. The oppressive and frightening sound of the blade entering flesh echoed dully as dead bodies collapsed one after another. Such silent deaths only evoked more fear and dread. Upon the 30th death, those holding a sword put it down and retreated, those attempting to flee stood, stunned, on the same spot. Those rolling up their sleeves and getting ready to assist started to tremble, their pants evidently moist, and those who were peeping behind their doors shifted their gaze away, sticking their back against it and realizing how much cold sweat they had accumulated.
Ever since her transmigration, Meng Fuyao hadn't killed that many people, or that kind of people. Nevertheless, she showed no mercy. As a time-traveler, she wasn't familiar with the different ethnic groups, but she understood that soft-heartedness wasn't meant for a chaotic time as such. Killing was at times the only way to prevent more killings. She did not mind losing some blood to halt the eruption of a blood catastrophe within the city.
Three Rong men had finally snapped out of their daze and gotten ready to flee when Meng Fuyao lifted a leg and aimed for their heads like a black cloud. She landed in front of them and seized the machete from the man closest to her, before tossing it behind.
Like a crispy twisted dough, her sword flew toward the three of them, who were fleeing in the same direction, effectively pinning them to the ground. The man furthest away was removed from the blade due to the force, and he staggered a little before collapsing into a gutter by the side of the road and dying it red with his own blood.
Not only was the gutter dyed red, but the whole stretch of the street had also turned red. Like twisting and meandering snakes, blood flowed messily across the limestone ground.
The spectators froze all over the street like statues while Meng Fuyao stood amid a large pool of blood, looking up at the sky and sighing.
Then, she rubbed her hands against her sleeves before sheathing her sword carefully. In normal cases, she used three types of weapon: the mini dagger hidden in her waist area or sleeves as it was good for a sneak attack or self-defense. The long whip that was tied around her waist, which was good for escaping from an enemy without killing him. Lastly, the sword she carried behind. She had only used it twice, for mass killings.
The sword, Destiny Rebellion, was given to her by the Old Taoist Priest, whose face was grave when he had shared that it contained a huge secret. Meng Fuyao hadn't uncovered the secret, but the sword was indeed a high-grade weapon, as sharp as the gaze a killer gave when facing an enemy.
Layers of scale-like clouds had already overtaken the sunlight.
Yao Xun and Zong Yue's subordinates, who were busily distracting passersby's attention at the alley mouth behind Meng Fuyao, let out a prolonged breath. The massacre had them sweating cold buckets, and even the way they looked at Meng Fuyao had changed. The old Han couple was lying motionless and speechless on the ground.
Zong Yue, who had made no interventions but stayed close behind Meng Fuyao's back, a vital position, was as calm as before, and he even smiled. ”My turn.”
He moved forward and retrieved a small bottle, sprinkling its content all over the corpses. The wounds on those bodies instantly expanded and released a sizzling sound as the flesh gradually melted and the bones softened, eventually turning into a pile of bone fragments that were scattered into the air by a passing breeze.
An individual's whole trace of existence in this world had vanished in a flash.
The old man dashed over, hurriedly dragging Zong Yue and Meng Fuyao away. ”Leave, quick! These Rong people often wander about outside. A group of them is coming this way.”
Meng Fuyao helped the pregnant lady up, saying, ”They will surely look for you when they're unable to locate their companions. Come with me.”
Zong Yue had planned to ensure that no trace of corpses was left behind before leaving, but he suddenly knitted his brows, his face turning pale. He reached a hand to his chest, and a servant immediately rushed forward to provide support.
It was only upon the departure of the female butcher that those in the alley finally woke up from a dream-like state. They glanced left and right with faces as white as a sheet. Their eyes were full of indescribable fear. They started rubbing the blood stains off themselves and dispersing. Upon reaching their houses, they shut the doors tightly, even using heavy rocks to fortify them.