Chapter 66: Regardless
When Mao Yingsummer finally finished reciting that obscure incantation, Li Miao had already closed in, less than thirty feet behind her.
Li Miao pointed a finger.
A sharp surge of inner force shot forth like an arrow loosed from the bow, aiming straight for Mao Yingsummer’s chest.
It was the supreme martial art of the Ming Sect—the “Mystic Heaven Finger”—the very technique Lan Lechuan had used to test Li Miao previously.
Though Mao Yingsummer was a direct heir of the Ming Sect and a paragon among her peers, the shrill whistle behind her left her shocked—not only that Li Miao could wield a Ming Sect secret art, but also at the lethal intent. Instinctively, she reacted.
Channeling her energy through her feet, she pivoted powerfully to the side, raising her left hand to counter with a “Mystic Heaven Finger” of her own.
Bang!
A muffled crash split the air, blood spraying as Mao Yingsummer clutched her left shoulder, her arm limp and useless.
Between true masters, even the smallest gap is as vast as that between earth and sky. Mao Yingsummer’s “Mystic Heaven Finger” was shattered in midair, and the residual edge of the force, though deflected, bored a thumb-sized hole through her shoulder.
The wound snapped her collarbone in two, leaving the left side of her body nearly immobile. She stifled a groan, lifted her right hand, and tapped several points on her left shoulder, barely staunching the bleeding.
When she looked up again, Li Miao was already upon her.
That “Mystic Heaven Finger” was much like the tile Li Miao had struck out with while chasing You Zi’ang.
This was a strike from which, whether blocked or received, as long as the flow of energy was interrupted for a split second, he could close the distance and be right at one’s face.
Li Miao clenched his fist, the silk gloves woven from celestial silkworm thread creaking as if about to tear apart, the wild surge of force blowing the dust around him in all directions.
Boom!
Li Miao stamped his left foot, sending shards of stone flying as a deafening explosion echoed out!
His fist rose from his waist.
He punched forward!
At a glance, aside from the overwhelming force, it looked no different from the basic “Straight Punch with Forward Step” that children practiced in their earliest training.
The technique was utterly unremarkable, yet Mao Yingsummer’s face was stricken with dread.
She recognized it—“Horizontal and Vertical Fist”!
That was its name, rustic and plain. Just like the name, the technique consisted of two moves—one horizontal, one vertical—nothing flashy.
Yet it was legendary, renowned throughout the martial world!
It was said that more than a century ago, there was a youth with extraordinary physical gifts but a simple, honest heart. He had poor comprehension and could not master any advanced martial arts, save for the basic foundation set, which he practiced with diligence.
Despite years of careful instruction, he never progressed beyond the basics, and eventually, the sect gave up on him.
Even so, he continued to practice this foundational set every day for twenty years, through cold winters and sweltering summers, never once slacking. Of the dozens of original moves, only two remained after those years—one horizontal, one vertical.
His peers mocked him, but he only grinned foolishly and practiced, move by move, with utmost seriousness.
Then, calamity struck the sect. All the masters fell in battle, and their enemies came to annihilate the lineage and slaughter the disciples.
None could resist. The disciples despaired, closing their eyes to await death.
At that moment, the youth who had practiced the foundational set for twenty years stepped forward.
With a vertical punch, he drove an enemy’s head into his chest.
With a horizontal punch, a dozen foes were sent flying, never to rise again.
Only then did his fellow disciples realize that the two rustic moves they saw every day were so profound, so weighty.
From then on, the youth inherited the sect’s legacy and for a time was unmatched in the martial world. At fifty, he even bested the abbot of Wudang and became the martial alliance’s leader.
Sadly, after his death, none could replicate the spirit of that fist. The sect declined, and the once-famous “Horizontal and Vertical Fist” faded into obscurity, its secrets lost.
Now, it appeared again, directed at Mao Yingsummer!
Its power was restrained, as if the heavens themselves were tilting—deep, solid, embodying the true essence of the art.
Mao Yingsummer raised her palm, sending a blast of energy forth to meet Li Miao’s punch.
It shattered instantly!
“Mystic Heaven Finger!” “Great Nine Heavens Palm!” “Icy Silk Palm!”
“Bone-Piercing Needle!” “Yin Wind Blade!”
Countless secret techniques of the Ming Sect erupted from Mao Yingsummer’s hands, flung at Li Miao’s punch as if she had no care for cost, but they all burst like bubbles—dissipating midair, unable to slow the punch in the least!
Such was the “Horizontal and Vertical Fist”—not fast, even wielded by Li Miao, slow enough for Mao Yingsummer to see each motion clearly.
But impossible to stop.
Suddenly, Mao Yingsummer’s tense expression relaxed.
It was time—the incantation she had been reciting finally took effect.
A sudden wind rose, and bestial roars sounded nearby.
Several human-like figures lunged over, placing themselves between Mao Yingsummer and Li Miao, their talon-like claws slashing at him.
Bang!
Crash—
Limbs flew apart as the figures were blasted away, thick black blood, sticky as oil, spattering everywhere.
Li Miao’s punch still landed on Mao Yingsummer’s right shoulder.
“Urgh—”
She spat blood, flying backward, her right shoulder reduced to a mangled heap of flesh.
Yet she survived, collapsing to the ground, paralyzed and unable to move.
Still, at this range, Li Miao could kill her in an instant if he wished.
Li Miao did not finish her. He halted, scanning around.
Hundreds of human shapes stood in the darkness, growling and panting, eager to pounce.
At last, Li Miao spoke his first words: “Your Ming Sect, you’ve truly taken the art of Gu-worms to new heights.”
“All these years, you’ve been hiding out in Miao territory, haven’t you?”
“Cough… cough…” Mao Yingsummer hacked up a mouthful of clotted blood.
“It was my sect’s oversight. We never suspected someone like you was hiding within the imperial court.”
“But how have you cultivated both paths at once… and lived to tell the tale…”
Li Miao replied coolly, “That’s nothing for you to fret over. I trained myself. It has nothing to do with the court.”
“I got bored in Shuntian Prefecture, so I went out for a walk, and happened upon you beasts—so I thought I’d do a bit of killing.”
At his offhand words, Mao Yingsummer flushed with rage, blood surging, and spat up blood again.
“Heh… hehehe…”
“Go on, be arrogant while you can.”
“You can’t kill me.”
She forced herself to speak: “Surrounding you are five hundred ‘Gu Soldiers’—the fruit of my Holy Sect’s patient cultivation…”
“The mother Gu is within me. If I die, these Gu Soldiers, without restraint, will scatter in all directions, seeking flesh to devour.”
“Don’t think you can kill me and take the mother Gu from me… The inner force and blood keeping it alive are linked to me. Once that’s severed, the mother Gu will die with me…”
“No matter how high your skill, you can’t kill them all before they reach the surrounding villages…”
“Right now, you have only one choice…”
Mao Yingsummer’s voice grew icy: “These Gu Soldiers are immensely strong, impervious to swords or blades…”
“You might kill fifty, a hundred, but you’re no ‘Sumeru’—your energy will run dry before long…”
“Come! Kill! See whether you destroy all the Gu Soldiers first, or your inner strength is exhausted!”
“Heh… hahahaha… cough cough…”
Li Miao glanced at her. “Has anyone told you, you talk too much?”
“I was planning to slaughter all you beasts anyway. I’ll save you for last.”
With that, he raised a hand and unleashed a “Mystic Heaven Finger,” shattering Mao Yingsummer’s pelvis, crippling her escape.
And as her anguished screams echoed through the night, Li Miao strode calmly toward the oncoming Gu Soldiers.