I proved immortality through the imperial examination.

Chapter 196 The Sword of Benevolence

With everything in place, Pang Weiyi suddenly bowed to Xue Xiang and said, "The Benevolent Sword was forged by General Zhongwu using all his good intentions, achievements, and cultivation throughout his life."

Although the general has fallen, the sword intent of the Benevolent Sword has remained immortal for 30,000 years, becoming an indelible will.

Drawing upon the essence of this benevolent sword is a manifestation of our human race inheriting the legacy of the loyal and valiant general.

We have gone through countless hardships to prepare thirteen verses of truth, all for this moment.

However, the sword intent of the Benevolent Sword is extraordinary, and no matter how well we are prepared, we cannot guarantee that nothing unexpected will happen along the way.

Since you are here, we would like to trouble you to lend us a hand and keep things in order.

We dare not express our gratitude in words. The two nations of Great Xia and Great Zhou will forever remember the profound kindness and friendship of our predecessors.

If he were to be summoned by his predecessors, both countries would certainly not disappoint them.

Xue Xiang pretended to ponder, "I came here to find my disciple."

Now that he has left safely, I am willing to lend you all a helping hand.

However, I am old and frail, and have little energy left.

I can only do my best; if my abilities fall short, I ask for your understanding.

After expressing his gratitude profusely, Pang Weiyi raised his left hand high.

Above the sky, dark clouds hung low, and the wind howled.

Thirteen Confucian scholars from the human camp stepped forward, their robes fluttering and their expressions solemn.

Pang Weiyi said no more, turned around and waved his sleeve, "Down the formation!"

Seven Confucian scholars stepped forward in unison, scattered and standing at the center of the formation.

The remaining Confucian scholars stood on either side, their breaths becoming heavy, their literary energy surging between their brows, ready to unleash their power.

Pang Weiyi said loudly, "Today, the forging of the Benevolent Sword depends entirely on you all."

These thirteen verses of truth, all the result of years of painstaking composition by you gentlemen, are sure to be verses that will awe the entire region.

Today, you all recite this, manifesting the imagery and binding the sword of benevolence. If you succeed, it will be enough to glorify your family and bring glory to your generation.

After saying this, Pang Weiyi took out a small, dark bottle from his sleeve.

The bottle is covered with ancient runes, with a faint blood-red light moving between the lines, as if sealing something ominous.

He took a deep breath and said loudly, "The sword intent of the Benevolent Sword is too lofty and far beyond our reach. Only by using evil energy as a guide can we force it to reveal itself."

After he finished speaking, all around fell silent.

The human faction hurriedly assembled a large formation and set up a defensive shield.

Originally, once the two sides reached an agreement, the demon race should have withdrawn.

However, the extraction of the sword intent from the Benevolent Sword is a rare spectacle, one that is only seen once in a thousand years, and everyone naturally wants to witness it.

The demon army retreated far away and quickly set up a defensive formation.

Pang Weiyi slowly uncorked the bottle.

In an instant, a chilling aura soared into the sky, carrying corruption and resentment, as if the vengeful spirits that had been compressed for ten thousand years were entangled and roaring in mid-air.

The expressions of everyone present changed simultaneously.

The demon faction was filled with curses.

"Despicable humans dare to call themselves benevolent; this bottle contains far more than ten thousand vengeful spirits."

"It's no longer just a vengeful spirit; it has long since become a malevolent force."

"It is inhumane, and these thousands of vengeful spirits will never be able to enter the cycle of reincarnation again."

"........."

Amidst the clamor of discussion, that evil aura swirled and soared into the sky, heading straight for the heavens.

In an instant, the bright spot formed by the sword intent of the benevolent sword in the sky suddenly shone brightly, like a falling meteor.

In an instant, the evil energy, like snow dried by the scorching sun, turned into white smoke and vanished in an instant.

Immediately, the light spot suddenly enlarged, and the sound of a sword rang out from the void!

A sharp line pierced the sky, hurtling straight down.

Before the sword intent even arrived, the wind and clouds had already split apart, and the surging air currents across the land resembled the roar of a thousand troops.

Before the sword's cry had faded, sharp blades rained down like raindrops.

The human race's protective array light barrier trembled incessantly, its array patterns flickering like a candle in the wind.

The great formation, which the demon race watched from afar, also rippled, like the ocean churning, as if it were about to break at any moment.

The scholars in the formation were all pale-faced, but they still gritted their teeth and circulated their literary energy, trying their best to hold on.

Some people looked out of the stadium and felt a chill run down their spines.

The Lord of Mingde Dongxuan was still standing in the same spot.

Previously, no one had invited the Lord of Mingde Dongxuan to enter the formation, and Xue Xiang himself did indeed want to enter the formation.

However, this is not conducive to solidifying the image of an unparalleled master.

Xue Xiang could only shake his head slightly, refusing to go inside.

At this moment, the sword intent of the Benevolent Sword struck, though its main target was the evil energy in the sky.

However, the lingering effects still made Xue Xiang feel threatened by the loss of his life.

But the persona has already been established, and it must be maintained.

At this moment, he stood with his hands behind his back, his robes fluttering in the strong wind.

Neither a spiritual energy shield nor a talisman was activated.

He spoke softly and gently, and the poem flowed forth, the imagery appearing spontaneously.

A fragment of sword power slashed horizontally, its aura as heavy as a mountain.

If it were to fall into the mortal body, it would surely be reduced to nothing.

Xue Xiang merely raised his hand slightly.

The moment the sword's power fell, the imagery transformed into a city gate, completely dispelling the sword's might.

The protective shields erected by the human and demon factions not far away were all emitting chaotic light, like withered branches and broken willows drifting in the wind and rain.

Everyone, including the demons, was utterly horrified.

After all, no matter how powerful the Lord of Mingde Dongxuan was, it was all just hearsay.

First, the two saints of Yunlei promoted it, and then the master of Mingde Dongxuan admitted that he was the master of Youxiong Jingang.

However, none of these can be verified or are intuitive.

Even now, the Lord of Mingde Cave easily blocked the remaining power of the Benevolent Sword, demonstrating his true skill to everyone.

"He... didn't even enter the protective formation, that's too arrogant."

"As expected of the master of Youxiong Jingang, he can block the power of Renjian's sword intent with just words."

"As expected of the renowned Lord of Mingde Cave..."

The human faction whispered amongst themselves.

The demon faction was also abuzz with discussion.

Pang Weiyi was struggling to maintain the formation when he looked up and was both shocked and delighted. He felt that his move to ask the Lord of Mingde Dongxuan to support the formation was the most brilliant one.

The step of using evil energy to lure the sword intent of the benevolent sword was undoubtedly a game-changer.

After the benevolent sword's intent annihilated the evil energy, it unleashed its power, shocking the entire audience.

Pang Weiyi knew that the time was ripe, and let out a long roar.

Without his command, the thirteen Confucian scholars in the formation stepped forward simultaneously, their voices ringing out like thunder.

Poetic lines burst forth from my heart:

"The sun hangs high in the sky, illuminating eternity!"

"Iron horses gallop in the autumn wind, the desert is cold!"

"Green mountains stand like a screen, and the Yangtze River never runs dry!"

"The flames of loyalty and righteousness will burn away all evil!"

Each word struck like thunder, causing a deafening roar across the surrounding area.

As the recitation continued, the literary energy rustled and fell, and more than ten layers of imagery rose from the void:
Some transformed into towering mountains, their foundations as solid as pillars protecting the nation;

Some rush into rivers, their surging waves lifting up heaven and earth;
Some manifested armored cavalry, their iron armor gleaming, exuding murderous intent;
Even more intense flames filled the sky, transforming into crimson infernos that burned the evil spirits to ashes.

More than ten layers of imagery are interconnected and overlapping, like chains of heaven and earth, pressing down on the sword light in the sky.

The sword intent of the Benevolent Sword suddenly surged!

The sword's cry was like a thunderclap, and in an instant, the sword light struck in all directions, sword energy fragments flew everywhere, cutting through the mountain wind, and even the protective formation was torn open.

But the poetry continued.

"Stars shine in the sky, righteous spirit lives on among men!" "Blood is shed across the land, loyal hearts shine like the sun!"

New verses flowed into the torrent, new images emerged one after another, mountains and rivers, iron cavalry and raging fire, all joined together to encircle.

The sword light vibrated even more violently, its sharp edges piercing through the imagery, the sounds of shattering echoing endlessly. In an instant, three mountain imagery collapsed, and two rivers broke apart.

The scholars, their faces pale, gritted their teeth and persevered, continuing their recitations.

A surge of literary energy erupted from between their brows, like a burning flame.

Pang Weiyi shouted: "Lock!"

More than ten images suddenly converged, weaving into a magnificent net that forcefully trapped the sword intent of the Benevolent Sword within.

The sword's cry was fierce, like the angry neighing of a thousand horses, but it was ultimately blocked by dozens of poetic images, and in the struggle, it temporarily lost its edge.

The sword intent was trapped, and the sword's resonance continued, like a thousand troops roaring in iron chains.

Pang Weiyi stared at the blazing light, his voice low but trembling uncontrollably: "Trapped...trapped..."

A scholar raised his voice, "Scholar Pang, does trapping the sword intent of the Benevolent Sword mean you've successfully extracted it?"

Pang Weiyi nodded and said, "That's one way to understand it."

The benevolent sword is not an inanimate object.

It is a thought, the embodiment of General Zhongwu's lifelong benevolence.

Once it can be restrained, its sharpness subdued, and it ceases its wanton attacks, the extraction will be considered successful. Afterwards, the great Confucian scholar will nurture it day and night, merging his own literary energy with it, and one day, it will be completely refined.

"If that's the case, then the one who wields the sword must be the strongest person in the world."

A Confucian scholar looked on with longing.

An old Confucian scholar whispered, “The sword of benevolence and the sword intent are the ultimate of Confucianism and Taoism.”

The character '仁' (ren, benevolence) is the source of all goodness, and it is the most difficult to understand throughout history.

The benevolent encompass heaven and earth and cherish all living beings; the benevolent sacrifice themselves for righteousness and are willing to die for it.

General Zhongwu was able to achieve great things; he was not merely a man who blindly showed off his strength.

Therefore, our refinement of the Benevolent Sword's intent is not focused on the word 'strength'.

His gaze turned to the heavens, his voice tinged with reverence: "General Zhongwu once protected the people of the world with his blood and bones. After his death, his benevolence remained, and thus this sword was formed. Thirty thousand years have passed, yet the sword's spirit still remains, undeterred by time."

His life was ultimately defined by the word "benevolence," a principle that you should all remember.

All the Confucian scholars were deeply moved upon hearing this.

The demon faction also fell into silence.

Just as the scholars began to imagine the wonderful future of subduing the sword intent of the Benevolent Sword, the ray of light trapped in the layers of intent suddenly exploded, transforming into a cold sword light that soared into the sky.

In the blink of an eye, more than ten layers of poetic imagery, originally mountains and rivers, iron cavalry and raging fire, pine waves and long winds, overlapped and bound the sword light.

But at this moment, it was pierced by the sharpness of the sword intent, leaving it covered in cracks.

"Hold on!"

Pang Weiyi roared angrily, his voice hoarse and strained.

A scholar suddenly coughed up a mouthful of blood, but still forced himself to recite: "Mountains of white bones bury loyal bones, a thousand years of raging fire illuminates people's hearts!"

As soon as the poem was uttered, a long ridge of white bones re-formed, attempting to mend the rift.

However, the sword light swept across, and the long ridge shattered instantly.

Shattered bones flew everywhere, turning into dust that filled the sky.

Another scholar, his eyes bloodshot, recited in a strained voice:

"The vastness of heaven and earth supports the universe, and the evergreen pine stands proudly against wind and frost for eternity!"

Before the words were finished, the ancient evergreen tree rose from the ground, its branches and leaves forming a canopy, attempting to cover the sword's edge.

A sword rang out suddenly, splitting the tree trunk in two, and countless leaves turned into sparks that scattered.

A series of crashing sounds followed.

Rivers dried up, cavalrymen were routed, mountains collapsed, and thunder and fire were extinguished.

The more than ten layers of imagery, originally a magnificent scene of the combined efforts of many Confucian scholars, are now crumbling layer by layer, as if the heavens and earth are collapsing.

The faces of the human camp turned deathly pale, and someone cried out in alarm, "We can't hold on!"

Pang Weiyi's eyes were bloodshot with rage as he roared, "We have to hold on, even if we can't!"

New poetic voices are striving to burst forth:

"Even when blood is spilled across the land, the sun still shines; with a loyal heart, one dedicates oneself to the common people!"

"The stars in the sky never fall, their vastness and integrity forever illuminating the universe!"

The poetry flowed on, the imagery was rich and varied, yet the sword's sharpness was unstoppable.

It was as if it had been under shackles for too long, and finally it exploded completely. The sword's cry transformed into a monstrous wave, shattering more than ten layers of imagery at the same time.

boom!
The mighty sword force poured down from the sky, tearing apart the vast net of literary energy. The fragments turned into countless streams of light, falling in all directions.

That sword light broke through the suppression of numerous images, its momentum increasing rather than decreasing, and its righteous aura swept across the four directions.

The Confucian scholars in the formation retreated one after another; some knelt on the ground coughing up blood, while others fainted.

Pang Weiyi's chest heaved violently, his arms trembled, and he murmured two words: "This is bad..."

Above the sky, the sword light shone even brighter, as if it would cleave through the sun and moon.

The residual force even shook the distant demon formation, causing its light barrier to crack and the protective runes to rattle as if they were about to shatter completely at any moment.

Both the human and demon races looked up in shock.

They finally realized that this was not a wisp of inspiration to be fought over, but a vast and mighty sword intent that transcended the three realms.

The sword's power swept across the sky, turning it instantly white, as if the entire Wen Yuan Chaotic Sea was placed beneath its edge.

An atmosphere of despair spread.

The sword intent of Renjian seemed to have sensed the offense. After the sword light shattered more than ten layers of imagery, the sword's power still did not stop, and it cleaved straight into the sky.

With a loud "boom," a rubbing of the Wendao Stele was struck by the sword light in the sky and shattered instantly!

The demons were all dumbfounded.

Even if it was just a rubbing of a Wendao Stele, it was still an invaluable treasure for suppressing literary energy, and it was destroyed just like that.

The sound of the rubbing of the stele collapsing echoed throughout the surrounding area.

The magnificent ancient texts inscribed on the stele transformed into countless fragments of characters, scattered like stray fire.

Originally, the two rubbings of the Wendao Stele were barely enough to contain the chaotic literary atmosphere in the Wenyuan Chaos Sea.

At this moment, a rubbing of a literary stele was destroyed, and the thirteen giant dragons of literary energy immediately began to twist violently.

The thirteen giant dragons of literary energy suddenly broke free from their bonds and roared angrily into the sky.

Each one was enormous, with menacing scales and a swirling aura, like a monster where literary energy and rage coexisted.

"Roar--!"

The dragon's roar shook the heavens, and in an instant, a vast expanse of literary energy spread out, descending directly upon the mountains and seas.

The once tranquil Wen Yuan Chaos Sea erupted into turmoil once more, with waves surging back thousands of feet in an instant, and white mist forming a wall that crashed into the sky.

Countless powerful demons, who had chosen to lie dormant because their literary energy was bound, roared to the sky all at once.

A terrifying sense of oppression came from all directions.

Without anyone even having to signal, the defenses of both the human and demon factions were simultaneously compressed.

At the same time, both camps showed signs of panic and were in complete disarray.

"It is fate, it is fate..."

Pang Weiyi looked up at the sky and let out a long howl, his expression extremely sorrowful.

"Do not speak recklessly of destiny."

A sound came.

The speaker was Xue Xiang.

Pang Weiyi grasped at a straw as if it were a lifeline. "Senior, if you still have a solution at this moment, I, Pang Weiyi, am willing to serve as your lackey from now on."

I, Pang Weiyi, am not worth dying for, but these scholars are still young, they…”

Xue waved his hand, "I'll give it a try."

These three short words were like a thunderclap across the night sky.

At this moment, not only the human race was eagerly anticipating the outcome, but the demon race was also hoping that Xue Xiang could create a miracle.

The reason is simple: without the suppression of the Wen Dao Stele and the rubbing stele, this place has once again become a dangerous and treacherous wasteland.

Once a large number of monsters emerge, coupled with the chaotic spiritual energy manifesting murderous intent, it is likely that no one will be able to return safely.

(End of this chapter)