Chapter 88: Yang Sancheng and Shi Huiguo

Yang Tianbao gritted his teeth in agony as the spiked wolf-tooth spear pierced his shoulder, yet he forced himself to endure the pain without showing it. He steadied his stance, legs spread wide, and thrust the remaining Thunder Hammer into the ground behind him. Then, with both hands, he gripped the head of the wolf-tooth spear and pushed upward with all his might.

Because his legs were firmly planted, Yang Tianbao could leverage the ground’s resistance, amplifying the force with which he shoved the wolf-tooth spear away. Huang Xianlin, though pressing the spear downward from above, was suspended in midair, his legs unable to brace as effectively as Yang Tianbao’s. Thus, in a single motion, Yang Tianbao pushed the spearhead off his shoulder, freeing himself from Huang Xianlin’s attack.

Once the spear was removed, Yang Tianbao twisted his neck, shoving the weapon aside, and swiftly leapt in the opposite direction. Huang Xianlin, who had been bearing down with his spear from above, suddenly lost his point of resistance. The spear plummeted toward the earth, its tip striking the ground.

As the wolf-tooth spear pierced the soil, Huang Xianlin released his grip, sliding down from the upper end of the weapon. Just before reaching the ground, he shifted his feet, landing lightly and retrieving his spear.

Pointing the wolf-tooth spear at Yang Tianbao, Huang Xianlin declared, “Yang Tianbao, you’re wounded, and your troops are heavily surrounded by my forces. Cease this futile resistance, lest more innocent soldiers fall needlessly!”

Yang Tianbao glanced back toward the battlefield where the two armies clashed. His forces were still encircled by Huang Xianlin’s troops, harried and confused, struggling to find a way out. Panic had driven their mounts into a frenzied stampede, trampling one another and causing even greater harm among themselves.

The relentless assault from Huang Xianlin’s troops only worsened the carnage.

Regret welled in Yang Tianbao’s heart—he cursed himself for his own recklessness, feeling as foolish as a wild boar. This disastrous outcome, he realized, was due to his own carelessness. Now, he was no match for Huang Xianlin; his only hope was to wait for Yang Shengtian’s rescue.

To be defeated so utterly in his very first command! Fortunately, Yang Shengtian was a magnanimous leader; had it been anyone else above him, he would surely have been harshly punished. Yang Tianbao couldn’t help but feel secretly relieved to serve under such a commander. He looked toward the mountain summit.

At that moment, Yang Shengtian was descending from the mountaintop, gliding downward astride Little Black, whose great wings spread wide.

Seeing Yang Shengtian’s arrival, Yang Tianbao concluded that their leader must have already bested the enemy general, Wei Xiaoping. Suddenly, he burst out laughing.

“Ha! Huang Xianlin, we will not lose to you. In fact, you’re the one about to be soundly defeated! Your so-called General Wei Xiaoping has already been beaten by our king. See for yourself—look to the summit!”

Huang Xianlin, surprised by Yang Tianbao’s shift from grim determination to laughter and the claim that General Wei Xiaoping had been defeated, raised his gaze to the mountaintop.

Indeed, Yang Shengtian was soaring down from the heights, with no sign of Wei Xiaoping in pursuit.

Huang Xianlin’s mind raced: “Judging by Yang Shengtian’s manner, this is no retreat in defeat. Could General Wei Xiaoping truly have been wounded by Yang Shengtian? Since the battle began, I’ve heard no sounds of clashing weapons from above. Did Yang Shengtian defeat the general right from the start? Impossible! With the general’s unmatched skills—mastered from the immortal arts of Elder Xuan Zhe—he is nearly peerless on the Wildlands Continent. Moreover, he wields the Demon-Slaying Sword, a gift from a great master. How could he possibly lose so quickly? If General Wei really has been wounded or beaten, then as his senior brother—our masters were fellow disciples—I have failed in my duty! Yet, with his skill, the general should not have been bested so easily. Unless something unexpected happened, or Yang Shengtian resorted to some trickery…”

Seizing the moment as Huang Xianlin looked to the summit, Yang Tianbao swiftly drew his Thunder Hammer from behind, clutching his wounded shoulder with one hand. With a flash, he darted toward the spot where his other Thunder Hammer had fallen after he’d hurled it at Huang Xianlin earlier.

He snatched up the hammer, endured the searing pain in his shoulder, and raised both weapons. Facing Huang Xianlin, he swung them together, the two Thunder Hammers colliding with a resounding crash.

A streak of lightning-like brilliance shot forth from the impact, striking toward Huang Xianlin, followed by a thunderous boom that shook the valley.

Hearing the blast, Huang Xianlin whirled around to see the dazzling light hurtling toward him.

“Not good!” he thought, attempting to dodge. But he was a fraction too slow—just as he moved, the flash struck his left shoulder.

The energy released by the dual hammers was like countless invisible silver needles, concentrated into a fist-sized, formless mass that drove Huang Xianlin spinning leftward several times before he could regain his footing.

Without pause, Yang Tianbao formed a circle with his index finger and thumb, brought it to his lips, took a deep breath, and blew a sharp whistle.

His signal was answered by the distant roar of the Wolf-Lion Beast, which had been lying in a water pit to extinguish flames. At Yang Tianbao’s call, it leapt up and bounded toward him.

Though struck by the Thunder Hammer’s power, Huang Xianlin was saved from injury by his armor, forged from ancient divine iron, which absorbed the brunt of the blow.

At that moment, the Qilin Divine Beast arrived at his side. Huang Xianlin decided to set Yang Tianbao aside for the moment—the general’s safety was paramount.

He leapt onto the Qilin’s back and cried, “Qilin, quickly, fly to the summit! We must see what has happened to General Wei!” Gripping the golden reins in one hand and the wolf-tooth spear in the other, he spurred the Qilin skyward.

As Huang Xianlin and the Qilin ascended, Yang Shengtian and Little Black arrived from above.

Huang Xianlin reined in his beast and studied Yang Shengtian closely.

This was the second time Huang Xianlin had ever seen Yang Shengtian.

The first had been just over a month before.

——————

Some twenty years earlier, more than a thousand li north of the Barbarian Kingdom, in a place called Shili, a new faction rose to prominence: the Benevolence Society. Its founder was Yang Sancheng.

From a young age, Yang Sancheng was a scholar of vast learning and keen intelligence, driven by lofty ambitions. He later followed a Daoist priest into the mountains to cultivate the path of immortals, eventually becoming a Daoist with over nine centuries of cultivation.

When his master reached the end of his lifespan, Yang Sancheng saw him properly buried, then gathered his belongings and descended the mountain.

Eager to fulfill his ambitions and leave his mark on history, Yang Sancheng sought opportunities to offer counsel to the Barbarian Kingdom. In time, he became the chief strategist for one of its generals.

As a strategist, Yang Sancheng did not shy from ruthless schemes if necessary to win difficult battles. Yet, for all his cunning, his benevolence toward the people was genuine, earning him the respect and admiration of soldiers and civilians alike, and thus he gained considerable prestige.

However, the subsequent king, Zhao Jingkuang, proved depraved and neglectful of state affairs, allowing his subordinates to plunder and oppress the people at will, and showing little concern even when foreign enemies threatened invasion.

Disheartened, Yang Sancheng waited until the general he served passed away, then led a band of followers out of the Barbarian Kingdom. They settled in Shili, more than a thousand li away, where he founded the Benevolence Society—so named for his intention to bestow kindness upon the people.

Thanks to his brilliance and mastery of mystical arts, Yang Sancheng rarely tasted defeat against rival factions. Victorious in nearly every encounter, and beloved for his care of soldiers and commoners, he attracted many who suffered hardship and refugees seeking shelter. The society grew rapidly.

After five or six years, the territory under his control expanded to rival that of Qingfeng Kingdom, making it one of the ten most powerful factions on the Wildlands Continent.

For the sake of efficient governance and to secure his place in history, Yang Sancheng transformed the Benevolence Society into the Benevolence Kingdom. Following the model of the Barbarian Kingdom, he divided the land into three regions, each governed by a general who held the title of Regional King, second only to the monarch himself.

Among these three Regional Kings of the Benevolence Kingdom, Yang Shengtian was one—known as King Huicheng.