荒墟牧神 - 第41章 推刀一式見真章 - 錦書坊

ld get his footing, the courtyard's two great doors flew up like scraps of paper—the serpent had smashed them away—and a reeking wind hit his face as it came straight at him. That blood-basin maw and those fangs struck dread into him; he dared not meet the serpent head-on, and could not help wanting to call on the blind elder for help. But behind the serpent the blind elder stood, utterly composed, paying the whole scene no mind. Something stirred in Shen Mu's heart: "Does Blind Grandpa think I can handle this serpent? If he thinks I can, then I can! Heaven-Soaring Eye, open!" His essence surged into motion, rushing into both eyes, where it gathered into layer upon layer of gorgeous essence patterns, shaping a complex pupil-mark in his gaze. With the Heaven-Soaring Eye open, he felt at once as though the world before him had been rebuilt: the dim village, the scattered houses, the lunging serpent—all became doubly distinct, and he could catch its every movement with ease. Shen Mu shifted his step and, by a hair's breadth, evaded the serpent's pounce, the Butchering Blade in his hand slicing across the eye of the head that brushed past him. He leaped up and again, by a fraction of an inch, dodged the body that swept at him. Every motion of the serpent, falling under his gaze, became utterly clear; from the run of the muscles beneath its hide and the angle of its exertions, he could plainly know its next move and dodge accordingly. It was all as natural as breathing, with no need for guesswork. The first level of the Ninefold Heaven Gazing Art, the Heaven-Soaring Eye, could not only see through outward appearances—it greatly sharpened his perception as well! The serpent's left pupil was split open by that stroke, and it hissed in agony; at once it pounced at Shen Mu, who had just landed—and then its other eye went black as well, Shen Mu's blade cutting open the right. The serpent suddenly went still, not moving at all; Shen Mu too went still, not moving at all. Serpent and man were barely ten feet apart. Along both sides of the village road, many villagers had now come out of their houses to watch, staring blankly at the sight of a boy of eleven or twelve battling a great serpent. Night was falling. In that small village of a dozen or so households, the dim light of oil lamps came through the window lattices and could not light the road. Everyone held their breath, daring to make no sound. Then a little girl, frightened out of her wits, burst into wailing tears—and the serpent moved. It shot madly toward the girl, its blood-basin maw opening as it swooped down upon a family of three, frozen stiff with terror!