The old man said, "Young lady, you do not know the story. In those days, the Martial Demon was a notorious figure of the outlaw and dark underworld, a man who rode the storm of the age. He led a band of ruthless villains and committed every manner of evil—burning, killing, looting, and ravaging wherever he went. His crimes were so monstrous that they stirred the wrath of the heroes of the jianghu, and all wished to rid the world of him as swiftly as possible. It is said that in those years Han Zhen, Chief of the Hall of Loyalty, joined forces with the Jing Sect, the Manichaean Sect, the Fire Worship Sect, and Shaolin Temple to launch a great campaign against him upon Purple Cloud Mountain. The two sides fought a battle so fierce that it shook heaven and earth. In the end, the Martial Demon was gravely wounded, his martial arts utterly ruined, and there was no hope left for him. Back then he was driven to the edge of a cliff, cornered with no path of escape. Everyone thought he was certain to die. Who could have imagined that twenty years later, he would survive by some miracle? Now not only has his martial power returned, he even proclaims that he will take revenge and wash away his old humiliation!"
The bloody battle of those years had shaken the entire martial world. Though the Martial Demon had been defeated and badly wounded, his terrible name still cast a shadow over the jianghu. Yet now, twenty years later, he had seemingly returned from the dead, gathering all manner of fiends and wicked men beneath his banner, calling for the founding of a so-called Alliance of Justice in order to contend against the orthodox path. When the Jing Sect, the Manichaean Sect, the Fire Worship Sect, and Shaolin Temple heard this news, they naturally dared not treat it lightly. Once more they had joined forces to exterminate the Martial Demon, vowing to cut down this monstrous scourge of the jianghu root and branch.
Upon hearing this, Li Jian and Tan Wei were both shaken. They exchanged a glance, then at once sprang onto their horses and followed the many wandering martial men racing toward the ridge. The Hall of Loyalty had always taken it upon itself to uphold justice in the jianghu and make common cause with the heroes of the martial world. How could they possibly miss a matter of such consequence, one that concerned the survival of righteousness and evil alike?
Upon a ridge beneath Purple Cloud Mountain, a broad open ground spread out before them. The terrain was vast and level, well suited for battle, and now the two sides stood arrayed against one another in rigid formation. Killing intent hung thick in the air, and the atmosphere was taut as a drawn bowstring. Both the orthodox and unorthodox camps had gathered over a hundred elite fighters, and their combined presence was extraordinary.
On the side of the righteous path stood the monks of Shaolin Temple, ranked in formation. Their saffron robes fluttered in the wind, and the solemn majesty of the Buddhist order was plain to behold. At the front stood Chief Monk Benguang, while West Hall Monk Benxin and Hall Master Monk Yuanzhi stood shoulder to shoulder beside him, all three stern of face as they led the Shaolin warrior monks. Among the ranks also stood Master Liaoyin, the eminent monk who had once taken part in the original campaign against the Martial Demon. Even now, his expression was grave and heavy.
On the side of the Jing Sect, the three Great Dharma Kings—Dharma King Aluosi, Dharma King Jiade, and Dharma King Luoben—personally led the warrior monks of the Great Qin Temple. Their white robes stirred in the wind, their palms were joined in solemn composure, and their eyes shone like torches, filled with an awe-inspiring righteous spirit.
The Manichaean Sect had likewise come in force, led by Dharma King Li Rui, Dharma King Hu Tian, and Great Dharma King Jian. All their followers wore dark robes; their eyes gleamed brightly, and their staffs struck the earth with quiet authority, lending them an air at once majestic and mysterious.
The Fire Worship Sect, too, was not to be outdone. Its three great Dharma Kings—Zhao Ke, Zhou Yu, and Chu Ping—had already marshaled their ranks and stood ready in strict formation.
At the same time, in the center of the open ground, two experts were already locked in fierce combat. All those gathered fixed their eyes upon the contest, scarcely daring to breathe.
Li Jian's gaze settled upon the two fighters. One of them was a tall, powerfully built man with bright, piercing eyes and a resolute face. His moves were forceful and tyrannical, and he was none other than Dharma King Luoben of the Jing Sect.
His opponent was a broad, bald middle-aged man with a hawk-like nose and narrow, predatory eyes. Between his brows lingered a look of cruelty and cunning, and from his whole body there radiated a chilling aura of murderous intent. Every move he made was accompanied by violent palm-wind, fierce and razor-sharp, and he fought Dharma King Luoben to a complete standstill.
Their palm force collided again and again, stirring howling gusts of wind. The robes of the martial artists standing about the plaza whipped violently in the air, making it plain to all that this was a duel between peerless masters.
Watching the fierce battle before him, Li Jian felt his heart jolt in shock. There are such高手 among the enemy as well… Who in the world is this man?
Just then someone in the crowd shouted, "Palm Demon, finish him quickly!"
Palm Demon Li Fu replied in a steady voice, "Blade Demon Chen Kun, this man's skill is profound. How could he be defeated so easily?"
Palm Demon Li Fu, Blade Demon Chen Kun, and Sword Demon Cai Ming were all personal disciples of the Martial Demon, True Lord of Chaos. Their eyes shone like burning coals as they watched the battle, for they knew that this contest concerned more than victory or defeat—it was also a crucial chance for both sides to probe the depth and reality of each other's skill.
The two men's palm techniques flowed without end, their moves surging forth like rolling tides, one wave after another. In an instant, fierce palm winds and explosive currents of force crossed and clashed in thunderous succession.
Suddenly, two great cries rang out from the field. Both men simultaneously drove forth their inner power, and four palms crashed together. The currents of force burst outward in all directions, wild winds rose abruptly, and both fighters were driven back four or five paces before steadying themselves.
Dharma King Luoben cupped his fists and said in a deep voice, "Your palm skill is extraordinary. I am impressed."
Palm Demon Li Fu smiled faintly and replied, "Dharma King Luoben's internal cultivation is unfathomable. I too am full of admiration."
Hearing their exchange, Li Jian's eyes flashed like lightning. Their power is evenly matched indeed. Truly, they have met an opponent worthy of themselves!
All at once, a man in a green robe leapt forth from behind Palm Demon Li Fu. He was tall and straight of figure, with a long sword hanging at his waist. Cupping his fists, he said, "I am Cai Ming, known in the jianghu as the Sword Demon. I beg the Dharma King to grant me instruction!"
At these words, Dharma King Luoben's expression turned grave. Calmly he said, "Bring me my sword."
A young monk of the Jing Sect stepped forward with great reverence, both hands presenting a treasured sword. This blade differed from ordinary weapons—its hilt was fashioned in the shape of a cross, and from it there glimmered a chill, eerie light. The monk respectfully handed it over and said, "Dharma King Luoben, the Cross Treasure Sword has arrived!"
Dharma King Luoben accepted the sword and slowly advanced. His left hand formed a sword incantation while his right drew the blade from its sheath. The edge split the air, carrying with it a blast of biting sword energy. With one motion he traced a cross in the air, his bearing lofty and heroic, then declared in a ringing voice, "I have long heard that the Martial Demon's three great disciples each excel in palm, blade, and sword. Today that we have the rare fortune to meet, please enlighten me!"
Sword Demon Cai Ming smiled faintly, drew his sword, and with flashing steel said in a low voice, "Then I shall offend."
The words had scarcely left his mouth when his body sprang forward. In swift strides he rushed ahead, and a storm-like sword force descended upon Dharma King Luoben, covering the heavens and the earth.
Cai Ming's swordplay was erratic and unpredictable. His blade trembled in motion, and from its tip burst dozens of phantom sword-images, like wind and rain in furious assault, sealing off the vital points before Dharma King Luoben's chest. Seeing this, Dharma King Luoben remained calm. The Cross Sword traced a circle, sword energy surging outward, while his footwork shifted with exquisite subtlety. With an empty step and an upward flick of the blade, invisible sword qi burst forth in waves.
The shadows of their swords crossed and interwove, their sword energies sharp and terrible. Those watching outside the field held their breath, their hearts shaken. Dharma King Luoben's swordsmanship was agile and alive; his gleaming edge flashed and vanished, opening and closing with both elegance and steadiness, fully displaying the bearing of a true master.
Though Sword Demon Cai Ming's art was likewise superb, he found himself facing a Cross Sword technique he had never encountered before. Gradually his attacks slowed, and he was forced more and more onto the defensive. His body darted and roamed, rising high and crouching low, doing all he could to seek a flaw. Yet Dharma King Luoben's sword force came layer upon layer, swifter and swifter still. Within the time it took to drink a cup of tea, he had already launched more than sixty strikes.
After several dozen more exchanges, Dharma King Luoben's sword suddenly accelerated. The flashes of steel wove themselves into what seemed a net of swords, enclosing Sword Demon Cai Ming on every side. The Cross Sword technique was subtle and wondrous; the faster it became, the stronger it grew, like clouds rolling and mist surging, crashing down from all directions. Fear arose in Cai Ming's heart. His hands trembled faintly, and already he could no longer withstand the assault. His swordplay fell into disorder, and his mind was thrown into confusion.
Then, with a cry of alarm, Cai Ming's sword was struck flying from his grasp!
At that very instant, swift as lightning and flint, a black shadow shot forth. A great saber slashed across the air, and with a sharp clang—dang!—sword and blade collided, sending sparks showering in all directions.
Everyone present was startled, and in an instant all eyes turned toward the newcomer. He was a large, powerfully built man with a face full of grim resolve, holding in his hand a heavy-backed saber whose blade gleamed coldly with ruthless power.
Seeing this, Dharma King Luoben drew back his sword momentum, then leapt several zhang backward and steadied himself.
The newcomer said coldly, "I am Chen Kun, known in the jianghu as the Blade Demon. I ask the Dharma King to grant me instruction!"
Unruffled, Dharma King Luoben replied in a clear voice, "Please, make your move."
Blade Demon Chen Kun's eyes shone like lightning. He shifted his feet slightly, and at once saber qi began to spread outward, a frigid killing intent instantly covering the whole plaza.
Yet Dharma King Luoben stood as steady as a mountain. His sword intent did not waver in the slightest. His bearing was lofty and composed, and the majestic authority of the Dharma King shone forth in full.