Seeking Truth with a Sword-Chapter 547 - 490: Nobility_2

Chapter 547: Chapter 490: Nobility_2
Similarly ashen-faced were Wang Bojian and the White-haired Clan Elder. These people kneeling in the courtyard were all Wang Family members who had been deeply involved in and had carried out Wang Bo Fan’s plan; their numbers far exceeded the list they had handed over to Li Ang. Among them were the White-haired Clan Elder’s own children and nephews.
"Wang Fengxue, Wang Bindu, Wang Yinglang..."
A cultivator from the Supervision Department began the roll call, while other cultivators from the department entered the throng of Wang Family members, dragging out one person after another. They shackled them in handcuffs and fetters and threw them to the ground.
Cries, shouts, and pleas for mercy drowned out the roaring blaze of the great hall. Wives cried, pulling at their husbands’ arms; children wept, clutching their fathers’ thighs, but they were powerless to stop the actions of the Supervision Department’s cultivators.
Chu Haoman stood among the crowd, feeling chills run down his spine again and again. Indeed, many of those being dragged away were Wang Family disciples who had looked down upon his status as a son-in-law by marriage, often mocking and ridiculing him. But seeing so many familiar faces dragged from the crowd and thrown to the ground, Chu Haoman still felt an intense chill seep through his entire body.
He was truly terrified, afraid that the cultivator from the Supervision Department would call out his name—even though he knew he wasn’t involved.
"Wang Shengkang, Wang Linian, Wang Qiniang..."
The Supervision Department continued calling out names. Li Ang saw a familiar figure thrown to the ground: Wang Linian, the cultivator from the Wang Family he had met during the Qi Shui Village incident.
The cultivator from the Supervision Department beside him noticed his lingering gaze and spoke in a lowered voice, "The first Plague Demon talisman was posted by this person. Using his cultivator abilities, he bypassed the patrolling governmental officials and placed it on the door of a household in South City. The ten members of that household, including an infant still in swaddling clothes, all perished. Not one survived."
"Is that so."
Li Ang nodded, his gaze devoid of sorrow or joy.
When all the names had been called, all the guilty Wang Family members and the Prince Manor’s government officials were kneeling in the courtyard.
"Sword."
Li Ang raised his palm. A cultivator from the Supervision Department handed him the sword from his waist.
He gripped the sword, stepped forward to face Wang Jie, and calmly said, "Do you have any last words?"
Wang Jie stared at him intently. "What’s wrong with noble families treating common people like grass? Isn’t it right that the talented and privileged should rule over the unremarkable and mediocre below them? Take a good look at yourself in a mirror! You, too, rose to a high position because of your Spiritual Vein Talent and cleverness. Don’t you also want to be a Prince Consort, an Academic Palace Patrol, or even an Academic Palace Master?! When you’re married with children, won’t your sons and daughters, your grandsons and granddaughters, want to be forever wealthy and prosperous?! They can rely on your legacy—either stepping into political office, engaging in commerce to make money, or holding a position as an Academic Gatekeeper at the Academic Palace. Within a century, you yourself will become a new Gate Valve!
"Hahahaha... Don’t think that just because you’re standing here now, looking down, high and mighty, with righteous words, a century later, your descendants will also be standing with our noble families! They’ll be standing on the high hills, overlooking the ant-like common people below!"
BOOM!
The third beam in the great hall collapsed with a thunderous crash. Flames soared to the sky, and dust billowed.
Li Ang watched the nearly maniacal Wang Jie and calmly said, "Are you done?"
"No!"
Wang Jie laughed hysterically. "I don’t regret at all handling that batch of flea-infested furs! Nor do I regret having that Doctor—who spoke nonsense, blaming the plague on the Prince Manor and calling for people to stay away—beaten up. It’s just a pity the Wang Family’s cultivators didn’t have the courage to take the final step, they didn’t dare to actually kill you!..."
"Then I’ll give you the opportunity."
Li Ang reversed the sword and offered the hilt to Wang Jie. "Come on, kill me."
Wang Jie was momentarily stunned. It wasn’t only him; the cultivator from the Supervision Department who had just spoken to Li Ang and handed him the sword also instinctively took a step forward.
"You have a sword in your hand, and I have none," Li Ang said. "I’m giving you the chance to kill me."
"..."
Wang Jie clenched the sword hilt tightly, his expression shifting several times—fierce, loathsome, fearful, bewildered. The hand gripping the sword hilt trembled incessantly. Finally, it loosened.
CLANG—
The Longsword fell to the ground, its tip stabbing into the earth.
Wang Jie did not have the courage to wield the sword. He was still a member of a noble family. Those innocent clansmen still stood there. If he thrust this sword, the others would die too.
Li Ang looked indifferently at Wang Jie, who had lost all courage and momentum, now kneeling on the ground.
A sense of absurdity and vexation inexplicably arose in his heart. The chief culprit, responsible for the deaths of tens of thousands of common people and inflicting incalculable damage upon Yu Country, was merely a foolish, short-sighted, shallow, and selfish scion of a noble family. He could regard his clansmen as his own flesh and blood, yet he felt not an ounce of sympathy for the city’s common people who sustained the Wang Family. How utterly... absurd.
Li Ang reached out to grasp the hilt, slowly pulling the Longsword from the soil. He released his hand and levitated the blade with Telekinesis.
The blade slowly tilted, pointing directly at Wang Jie.
"..."
Wang Jie weakly lifted his head, staring at the tip of the sword.
WHOOSH—
As Li Ang flicked his fingertip in the air, the Longsword suddenly flew out, piercing through Wang Jie’s brow.
Skin tore, bones splattered. Half of Wang Jie’s head exploded. Like a scene in slow motion, the headless corpse, supported by its skeleton, toppled backward and crashed to the ground.
The sound of the Flying Sword cutting through the air drowned out the screams of terror from the Wang Family members. The blade’s momentum unabated, it swiftly slashed through the neck of a second person. A severed head danced in the air, and blood spurted from the corpse like a fountain, splattering over the terrified faces and bodies of their companions nearby.
Amidst the screams of horror and despair...
WHOOSH—
The third person.
WHOOSH—
The fourth person.
Li Ang’s fingertips moved left and right; the Flying Sword, under the control of his Telekinesis, harvested the lives of the highborn nobles.
The cultivators from the Supervision Department began to call out names again.
"Wang Jie of the Wang Family, for abetting the plague and annihilating humanity, your crimes are unforgivable. Zaiqian Sixth Year, November 9th, executed at the Taiyuan Prince Mansion."
"Wang Fengxue of the Wang Family, for spreading the Plague Demon Talisman and harming the common people, your crimes are unforgivable. Zaiqian Sixth Year, November 9th, executed at the Taiyuan Prince Mansion."
The screams ceased.
Blood flowed like rivers. The stench of blood pooled on the courtyard ground. The carefully selected, decorative pebbles of the courtyard soaked in the sullied blood, their surfaces stained with crimson lines. Corpses lay everywhere.
Li Ang turned around, the obedient Longsword floating at his side, blood dripping from the blade. The white silk tassel at the end of the hilt was now ragged and torn, likely scuffed off.
The scene was deathly silent. The cultivators from the Supervision Department stood immobile, silently watching all before them. The veils of their cone hats fluttered gently, blown by the heat waves emanating from the great hall’s fire.
Only one person remained.
Li Ang stepped forward to Wang Bo Fan. His palm was open, holding the floating Flying Sword, perfectly positioned to catch the blood dripping from its blade.
"..."
Wang Bo Fan slowly withdrew his gaze from Wang Jie’s headless corpse. He stared blankly at Li Ang, then gave a wretched smile. "I’ll be waiting for you in Hell."
WHOOSH—
The Flying Sword shot out swiftly, piercing through Wang Bo Fan’s body and nailing him to the great doors of the Wang Mansion.
THUD!
The great doors of the Prince Manor crashed outwards.
The ancestral Wang Family plaque, passed down for countless years, was shaken loose. It tumbled down, smashing onto the ground.
The character for "Wang" on it was stained red with fresh blood.