Douluo: The Exiled Immortal Descends, Sword and Wine Slay the Gods Chapter 172 - 172 – The Fifth Sword Intent,Murderous Ambush

Several pieces of moonstone were set in the corners of the tavern.

Their dim glow barely illuminated a few crooked tables and chairs gathered around a firepit.

In the corner—

Sat a young man.

He was wrapped in a thick black fur cloak, the turned-up collar almost covering half his face.

A wide-brimd straw hat pressed low against his brow, its edge hung with lting snow, droplets sliding silently down the bamboo weave.

Clearly, he had only just arrived, for the chill of the cold still clung to him.

Beneath the hat—

A sharp, handso face, with a scar slashing from brow to the corner of his eye.

Loose strands of black hair had escaped the binding, but the rest was tied high into a taut ponytail, radiating a harsh aloofness that kept people at a distance.

The tavern's proprietress swayed her hips as she ca before him.

One hand rested lightly on his shoulder.

The other lifted the wine jug on the table—

Pouring fiery liquor slowly into a coarse clay cup.

The pungent alcohol mixed with rising steam, drifting like a hazy veil before Li Zhexian.

The woman's laughter quivered like blossoms in the wind.

"Guest, try so of our northern Burning Knife—it'll warm you right up!"

"Pah! Compared with our Burning Knife, the drinks outside is nothing but horse piss!"

Li Zhexian didn't touch the drink. His voice was cold:

"Where is the at I asked for?"

"You can't enjoy such strong liquor on an empty stomach."

The tavern woman curled her lips into a smile, just about to reply—

Bang—!

The wooden door slamd open.

Wind and snow howled inside.

Four burly n in bloodstained beast-fur coats barged in through the storm.

They shook the snow from their shoulders, then swaggered toward an empty table in the middle.

"Boss lady!"

The leader bellowed, voice rough as gravel:

"Two jin of Burning Knife, four big bowls of hot noodle soup—and another two jin of at!"

The proprietress hurriedly nodded.

"Yes, yes! Right away, honored guests!"

The four sat, their eyes sharp as hawks, sweeping the tavern.

When their gazes fell upon the cloaked figure in the corner—

One man's eyes suddenly lit up. He pointed and barked:

"Hey! Kid! Raise your head!"

Li Zhexian lifted his eyes as told.

The man scrutinized him, frowning deeply.

"Tch. Not you. Never mind!"

Turning, he growled to his companions:

"Thought we'd struck it rich—almost mistook him for that Spirit Hall bounty, that… Li Zhexian!"

Another man gulped steaming pine-needle tea, hissing through his teeth as he exhaled.

"Heh, and you think eting him would be lucky?"

"Even the Supre Pontiff was nailed by that monster. You think the likes of us could handle him?"

The chatter burst open, rolling on.

"Who says the Pope was nailed? You sure that's not a rumor?"

"You're the one spouting rumors! That's Spirit Hall's propaganda. I know the real story—that Li Zhexian didn't just kill seventeen of Spirit Hall's deacons for no reason, and he sure as hell wasn't beaten half to death and fleeing from the Pope!"

"Hey, I heard your version too. But isn't it said Li Zhexian's already dead?"

Li Zhexian glanced at their table.

A snow-stained sheet of paper lay spread open—

His portrait was strikingly drawn on it.

"So… Bibi Dong really does hate to the bone. Even the northern border has my bounty."

He thought to himself:

"Good thing, before we parted, Senior Feng Bailong gifted this human-skin mask."

"But I wonder… who was the friend who spread the rumor that 'I am already dead'?"

Just then—

Bang—!

A large hand slamd onto the table, rattling the teapot and cups.

"Damn it! Hey, kid in the corner! I'm talking to you—gone deaf?!"

The man's eyes bulged in fury.

"What the hell are you staring at?!"

Li Zhexian remained silent.

"You little—!"

The man shot to his feet, stomping toward the corner.

"Now, now, good sirs, no need to get riled up!"

The proprietress hurried over, balancing two large trays of food and wine. Her sowhat calloused hands pressed against the brute's chest as she plastered on a smile.

"What's the point of quarreling with a child? Here's your food and drink—piping hot!"

"On the house—one more dish, my treat, to make it up to you!"

"Hmph!"

The man glared one last ti at the youth in the corner.

"Consider yourself lucky, brat!"

Once the tavern proprietress had laid out the dishes—

The man grinned, and with a casual squeeze grabbed a handful of her ample backside.

"Ah! You damned bastard!"

Her face flushed red, but she dared not truly scold him, only throwing him a venomous glare.

"Hahahaha!"

The four n's coarse laughter filled the tavern.

"Co on, eat, eat!"

"Fill up, we've still got to head into the Frozen Forest to hunt Spirit Beasts!"

"Heh, now that we've joined the Snow Bear rcenary Group, we'll be sure to haul sothing back!"

"Are you all right?"

The proprietress ca to Li Zhexian's table.

She set down a dish of dark red at, lowering her voice:

"Eat quickly, then get out of here."

"Young as you are, what are you doing wandering the godforsaken north alone?"

Li Zhexian inclined his head gratefully.

"Thanks."

She pursed her lips in a faint smile.

"Oh, so you do know how to be polite?"

"Go on, eat. Beef with Burning Knife—that's the proper way."

Li Zhexian nodded. He lifted the coarse clay bowl and took a long swallow.

The liquor cut like knives down his throat; his face flushed instantly, his gaze turning hazy.

He put the cup down unsteadily, shook his head hard, then collapsed forward with a loud thunk, striking the table's edge and falling still.

At once the four n jumped to their feet, barking at the proprietress:

"He's just a kid! Why didn't you let us take care of him?!"

She frowned, staring at the unconscious youth.

"Better to be cautious. These days aren't safe. Three shops along this road have already been wiped out."

"That boy—I coaxed him to drink more than once, but he wouldn't touch a drop. That's why I needed you lot."

The four burly n crowded closer.

One spat onto the floor.

Shrring—he yanked a heavy-backed chopping blade from his belt.

He scraped the edge hard along the inside of his arm, saring it with a dark red sheen.

Grinning savagely, he swung wide, the blade howling through the air as it ca crashing down toward the boy slumped on the table.

Bang—!

Crack—!

The wooden table exploded to splinters.

Bowls and plates shattered across the floor.

But there was no spray of blood, no mangled flesh.

The five froze in shock.

"Turn around."

A cold, distant voice rang out.

They spun as one.

And saw a sweep of black swordlight scythe past their eyes.

In the instant it flared, the tavern's dim yellow lanterns seed to gutter.

No clash of steel. No tearing of flesh.

Only five pairs of pupils dilating, life snuffed out in silence, as their bodies toppled stiffly to the floor.

"…The fourth one."

Li Zhexian murmured under his breath.

He had been in this bitter northern land for half a month.

By chance, he had stumbled onto this road, known to locals as the "Black Path."

Every inn along the way was a bandit's den, killing for coin.

"If I hadn't waited to see whether more victims would co in…"

His eyes flicked toward the jug on the rcenaries' table, his lips curling in a cold sneer.

"Four n—just two jin of Burning Knife?"

"With appetites like that, what kind of bandits are you pretending to be?"

His black fur cloak billowed with a sudden sweep, stirring the dust from the floor.

Li Zhexian sat cross-legged where he was.

As his breathing grew long and steady—

On his brow—

A black lotus sword-mark shimred faintly into being.

At the sa ti—

A sword intent of death and withering decay—

Spread outward from him like a chill tide…