Chapter 37: Flying Swords in the Fish Market

Sword Dynasty

Volume 2

Chapter 37: Flying Swords in the Fish Market

Ding Ning continued walking forward calmly. He had arrived at the Ghost Worry Pier he had previously mentioned to Shen Yi.

This place was located beneath many stilt houses filled with firewood. These stilt houses were slightly higher than the others. Because they were used as warehouses and contained relatively heavy goods, these stilt houses had more supporting wooden pillars to support the weight than the others. Some of the pillars had been simply lifted, while others were tilted. The wooden planks beneath served as piers, with numerous floating buckets and small boats with black canopies moored on either side. The mooring ropes were tied to these wooden pillars, and the intertwined, swaying ropes reminded one of hanged ghosts.

His steps seemed relaxed but he was controlling his timing with precise measurements.

This was the Fish Market. This place harbored many true experts who would not allow outsiders to do as they pleased. Therefore, if someone wanted to assassinate him here, he would have a natural advantage.

The reason he set a time with Shen Yi was because he wanted to give the enemy a chance to act, but he had to ensure that the people who could control the situation would arrive in time.

He of course had to finish off the enemy who wanted to kill him in one strike. Otherwise, there would be many unforeseen dangers awaiting him in the future. Furthermore, he was thinking further than most people. This time, if he could not learn from the person behind the assassins this time, he might just be able to use them to achieve other goals.

The water surface had frozen. Since the water here was usually dirty black water, the ice was also black, even more fitting of the name Ghost Worry Pier.

The originally fragile and less sturdy planks were now firmly frozen on the ice, making it more stable to walk on than usual. The black-canopied boats and the round buckets around them were frozen motionless. Even the mooring ropes had icicles hanging from them.

Everything was deathly silent and there were no figure was visible to his eyes.

But Ding Ning knew the cultivator closest to him was on a black-canopied boat dozens of feet to his left.

This cultivator's presence was very faint, and he controlled his breathing so that he only breathed in long intervals.

Even though Ding Ning was so close, the cultivator's breathing rhythm remained unchanged.

In fact, besides this cultivator, there were two other cultivators farther away who had come to surround him. He could not even sense the other cultivators' presence at all.

He only smelled their scent.

This was a unique characteristic of the Three Corpses Nonself Consciousness Sutra.

While not as good as the Nine Death Silkworm in sensing physical energy, vital energy, and the primal energies of the universe, the Three Corpses Nonself Consciousness Sutra was unmatched by other cultivation methods in its perception of subtle sounds, scents, and other minuscule senses.

He smelled a slightly pungent, fishy, and putrid, yet also somewhat sweet, scent from the two cultivators who were silently following him and the cultivator closest to him.

This was the scent of the sap from the coiled snake flower. This was not unfamiliar to Ding Ning.

The sap from the coiled snake flower was a naturally deadly poison. Cultivators below realm five were almost unable to expel it from their bodies through cultivation For cultivators below realm three, this could be considered a poison that could be instantly fatal if it came into contact with blood.

However, applying poison to swords was a matter of great shame for the people of Changling. Even in the entire Qin Dynasty, only outlaws in the Jiaodong Commandery would apply such poison to their swords.

People with weapons like this were obviously here only to kill him, not to speak with him.

Hearing the soft breath, which was only heard occasionally, Ding Ning's footsteps did not pause, and his expression remained unchanged.

He did not even look at the boat stuck on the ice.

But suddenly, his right hand gripped the hilt of the Last Flower Remnant Sword, and he slashed several sword lines at high speed through the air.

A simple white sword seal immediately formed and then disappeared.

Among the expanse of white frost, several shards of ice immediately shot towards the black canopy. In this silent space, a deafening tearing sound rang out.

The cultivator inside the black canopy had been prepared to react at the next moment. He never expected his tracks to be exposed, nor did he expect Ding Ning to act so rashly, attacking so fiercely and without asking for any reason first.

To his utter shock, the moment the sharp edge of the ice shard pierced beneath the canopy, the black-robed cultivator hiding within channeled his vital energy without hesitation. In this cramped space, he did not have time to use any sword moves. He slapped the canopy behind him, and an even louder tearing sound rang out. He darted out in a strange posture, like a large, wounded black bird.

He was a short-bearded cultivator. His lips were thick and his gaze was as sharp as an eagle's. He was not wearing a mask at all.

His reaction was indeed swift, but just as his body left the parted canopy, before he could even think of a counterattack, a sword light made of countless tiny white flowers stabbed fiercely into his waist!

This young man from the wine shop, whom he had assumed he could kill instantly, so he did not need to cover his face, seemed to have perfectly calculated his reaction. The young man moved without hesitation behind the black canopy. This young man's thin body stretched to its limit, visible as his posture closely followed the curve of the black canopy. This young man tilted his body and precisely pierced his waist and internal organs!

The short-bearded, black-robed cultivator heard a sound from his body like sheep intestines expanding and bursting apart.

The intense pain caused his body to instinctively arch backward like a shrimp.

He could feel the strength rapidly draining from his body. However, he still held the short, black sword with a sweet and fishy aroma in his hand. He wanted to deliver a fatal blow to Ding Ning before he died.

But at that moment, a sharp pain came from his neck. A wave of momentum prevented him from completing his stabbing motion before he fell heavily backward.

There was a dull thud.

He felt himself being slammed onto the deck like a piece of meat slammed onto a cutting board by a butcher.

When his back collided with the cold black ice, he finally heard a sizzling sound coming from his neck. Then, the ice around him emitted a softer sizzling sound.

Only then did he realize that Ding Ning's movements had not stopped at all. As he stiffened in pain, his opponent's sword had been drawn from his waist and swiftly stabbed into his neck.

The sizzling sound was the sound of hot blood gushing from his neck, and countless droplets of blood burned small holes in the ice where they landed.

How could this be possible!

He was just a young man on the street who had no fighting experience. Why was his killing attack even more ruthless and practiced than his own!

First, he felt inexplicable shock and disbelief. Then, he felt fear. But when he opened his mouth, he could not make a sound.

His last feeling was the hot, fishy smell of blood rushing through his throat, rising to fill his mouth, and gushing out of his lips.

 

The black-robed cultivator writhed on the ice like a black fish that had just been slaughtered.

Hot red blood spread in a startling contrast on the ice and quickly flowed down.

Ding Ning, who had killed the black-robed cultivator with two sword slashes, had an unusually calm expression. He steadied himself on the blood-stained ice, stood upright, and turned around.

A cultivator in a blue robe, and a cultivator in an embroidered crimson robe appeared on the ice nearby.

These two cultivators also did not cover their faces with masks.

The blue-robed cultivator had short hair and appeared to be in his forties. He had thin eyebrows and a strange brown eye color.

The crimson-robed cultivator had a round face. He was short and plump, very similar to the fat merchants in Changling. However, his slightly narrowed eyes radiated a cold light like a venomous snake.

“Although I don't know who sent you to kill me, you're too arrogant to come here to kill.”

Sensing the powerful presences the two cultivators began to emit, Ding Ning remained unperturbed. Instead, he said with a slightly mocking and sympathetic tone, “This is the Fish Market. Do you think it's a place where anyone can easily enter and exit?”

Hearing Ding Ning's words, the short-haired, blue-robed cultivator remained expressionless. But the short, plump cultivator, who looked like a merchant, shook his head and imitated Ding Ning's tone. “Although I don't know how you found us, you dared to lure us into action after finding us—even if this is the Fish Market, we still have time to leave after killing you.”

Just as he began to speak, a thin, dim sword fell along the wooden pillar behind Ding Ning, then flew towards the back of Ding Ning's neck.

This was an unexpected Flying Sword attack from a realm five cultivator.

However, Ding Ning had already sensed the Flying Sword. He stood motionless without planning to use his sword to ward off this sword attack.

“Something's wrong!”

Both cultivators sensed something unusual at the same time. Their pupils contracted.

The short, plump cultivator, who looked like a merchant felt a chill emanating from the ice beneath his feet. He felt immense fear. His vital energy surged wildly from his feet, and his hands clawed frantically as if trying to grasp something.

However, he and the short-haired, blue-robed cultivator beside him were too late; they could not change anything.

With a cracking sound, a crack appeared in the black ice beneath his feet. Ice and steam gushed out like a fountain.

A small, crimson sword pierced the sole of his right foot. Then, the sword flew out from behind his head, leaving a strange trail of flesh and blood like a snake!

The eyes of this short, plump cultivator, who looked like a merchant widened. He fell backward with a thud. Even now, he did not know who had attacked with this sword.

His thin Flying Sword went out of control and skimmed past Ding Ning by inches before stabbing into a wooden pillar. After trembling a few times, it lay motionless like a dead dragonfly.

 

Notes:

This novel is not my work... I just translated it from a Chinese web novel written by Wu Zui

Previously

Next