Refuse to trample on the pride of heaven

"Ahem... Speak once you've finished communicating." The voice of the Divine Sword was neither male nor female, and it rang out directly in Lu Wensheng's mind, carrying a hint of solemnity that was barely perceptible.

Lu Wensheng was stunned when he suddenly heard the voice, while the system was furious.

[You can speak for yourself, why do you need me to be your mouthpiece?! What a waste of my time!]

"How precious is my power?! Faith and desire are hard-won, why waste them on such things?" The divine sword retorted casually, but its attention was entirely focused on Lu Wensheng, as if assessing Lu Wensheng's potential.

Lu Wensheng had no time to concern himself with this minor incident within his sea of ​​consciousness. He focused his mind and, through the radiant wooden statue, issued a clear and resolute call to the countless living beings in this vast world he protected. Like a pebble thrown into a calm lake, the ripples would surely spread to the ends of the earth.

"The demon race has been born, the Demon Lord has been born, and humanity is in imminent danger. Are you all willing to lend a hand?!"

This sound was not forcibly infused with spiritual power, but flowed out gently yet irresistibly along the invisible bond of will, flowing over mountains, crossing rivers, penetrating clouds, and reaching every corner.

Shi Yubai, who was embedded in the ground and almost impossible to pry out, suddenly raised his head upon hearing the sound, his remaining eyes filled with absurdity and anger: "???"

After beating this dignified Demon Lord into such a miserable state, you still want to call for reinforcements?! You even want to "help" him?! Lu Wensheng, speak from your conscience! Is there anyone in this world who can fight better than you?! Have you no shame?!

However, His spiritual senses frantically warned Him, the shadow of death like a cold spider web tightly binding Him, reminding Him that if He were to perish again this time, He might never have the chance to reassemble His demonic energy and be reborn!

The instinct for survival overwhelmed everything. Relying on the pitiful connection in his bloodline, which now seemed like a death warrant, Shi Yubai forcefully suppressed the remaining demons who were already terrified and cowering on the edge of the battlefield.

Like puppets manipulated by invisible threads, they utterly resisted, yet still let out fearful cries, struggling and trembling as they crawled out from the ruins and shadows where they hid, trying to buy their masters a meager, precarious time with their meager numbers and lives.

It's pitiful that these demons thought that attaching themselves to the Demon Lord and being connected by blood was the greatest glory and the reliance for conquering the heavens. Now they have become the first to be abandoned and used as cannon fodder. How ironic and how tragic.

At the same time, Shi Yubai's broken demonic body recklessly activated its source, expanding violently once again. The chaotic demonic energy surged wildly within its body, emitting extremely unstable destructive fluctuations—He was truly determined to fight to the death. If he was destined to perish, he would drag Lu Wensheng and this despised human world down with him!

"I am willing to lend a helping hand to the leader!"

On the battlefield, those cultivators who had long since disregarded life and death were greatly invigorated upon hearing Lu Wensheng's voice, which seemed to resonate directly in the depths of their souls. Their weary bodies were as if infused with new strength, and their eyes burned with intense flames.

They brandished their magical weapons and roared furiously. The sound waves converged and soared into the sky, temporarily drowning out the howls of the demons.

"I am willing to follow in the footsteps of the champion!"

Liu Jiqian, Ji Yanli, Song Wen, Yan Qingshu and the others looked at each other, and all saw in each other's eyes a relieved smile and an unwavering determination.

They responded loudly, their tone even carrying a hint of ease and playfulness after going through countless hardships, as if what was about to happen was not a life-or-death struggle, but a long-awaited dance.

They raised their longswords once more, their clear, bright light reflecting off their young and determined faces.

They charged forward first, like sharp arrows, fiercely piercing into the resurgent, now demoralized, army of monsters.

If they could do it all over again, a hundred times, a thousand times, they would still be at the forefront.

But this charge was no longer filled with the sorrow and despair of mutual destruction; instead, it carried the high spirits and pride of seeing the dawn of victory. It was the glorious final blow that would end this catastrophe!

They are also part of this common people, the backbone and the sharpest edge of humanity!

As the cultivators' faith and fighting spirit surged, tiny glimmers of light, like fireflies drawn by a divine inspiration, quietly emerged from their bodies. At first, there were only a few scattered points, but soon more and more appeared, converging into thin streams of light. They broke free from the constraints of their flesh and blood bodies and rose up resolutely, heading towards the figure in the sky shrouded in golden light of willpower.

Even more, tiny, exceptionally pure and soft specks of light floated out from the seemingly ordinary jade sunflower pendant at Lu Wensheng's waist—a token given by an outer disciple in the past, carrying the initial and purest wishes, which later became a symbol of his identity, embodying the silent admiration and hopes of countless people.

At this moment, these pent-up aspirations were also awakened and joined the torrent rushing towards the light.

Lu Wensheng's voice transcended spatial limitations, spreading to every corner of the world.

In a remote mountain village, an old farmer, holding a hoe, gazed worriedly at the sky filled with strange phenomena. Suddenly, he felt a sense of unease, as if he saw a blurry yet reassuring figure and heard a clear, melodious call.

He paused for a moment, then dropped his hoe and excitedly waved his arms toward the sky, shouting in his local dialect, "Everyone! I saw the kind sage who gave us directions! He said he wanted to help!"

Many villagers were equally excited: "You don't need to tell us, we all saw it!"

You know, they still worship the things the immortals gave them back then!

"My life was saved by a celestial being! Of course I have to help!"

"The immortals want our help, and we're willing! But how can we help?!"

The villagers were all talking at once, unsure of how to specifically help, but they were eager to contribute their share.

The next moment, they were astonished to see that faint, warm halos of light, like body heat, slowly drifted out from their calloused palms and chests, merging into the invisible stream of light in the air.

In the town's school, the teacher was trying to calm the panicked students, while Lu Wensheng's voice and image rippled gently in the air like water.

The children forgot their fear and pointed at the light and shadow, jumping for joy: "It's the teacher! It's the teacher in the book!"

They didn't understand any grand principles; they just instinctively felt that the man was a good person who needed help, so they had to help him.

Their tender voices shouted eagerly, "Yes! We're willing to help you, sir!" Pure sparks of will, like dandelion seeds, drifted out from the innocent hearts of these children.

On the streets of Kuicheng, the people who had received kindness from Lu Wensheng and been saved by him and others were moved to tears.

They recognized the figure—the hero they had heard so much about, the "great hero" who had brought life and hope to the city! Without any prompting, heartfelt shouts erupted from the crowd like a tsunami: "We are willing to help our benefactor!"

Countless points of light rose from the bodies of every excited citizen, illuminating the entire city as if it were daytime.

In a remote border region, Xiaoman was held tightly in her mother's arms. They looked up at the changing sky and stood under the eaves in despair, not knowing what to do, and could only pray for God's mercy.

Lu Wensheng's voice was like sweet rain falling on their parched hearts. They raised their heads, their tear-filled eyes seeming to see hope, and choked out, "It's...it's the immortal who killed the demon bodhisattva...We're willing, we're willing to help!"

Xiaoman's eyes shone brightly as she prayed, her heart overflowing with joy, feeling that there was nothing more difficult in the world.

As people offered their devout prayers, faint yet resilient points of light emerged from it.

It was him, the one who repeatedly stepped forward in times of crisis, bringing hope back to the world time and time again.

It is they, these ordinary, insignificant beings, who at this moment share a common heart and are willing to gather their meager strength into stars.

Those who were initially confused and passively endured the panic brought about by the dramatic changes in the world found their confusion and fear strangely subsided when they heard Lu Wensheng's voice and saw the blurry yet reassuring image.

Although they didn't know exactly how to do it, they heard the words "help each other" very clearly.

An inexplicable impulse drove them to send their most sincere and urgent response to the sky, to the direction of that figure:

"We do!"

"What should we do? We will do our best!"

"Please give your orders, Immortal!"

The moment they shouted "I do," it was as if they had touched some kind of law in the dark. One, two... countless faint but clear lights, like fireflies breaking free from the darkness, quietly emerged from between their brows, from their hearts, from their outstretched palms, carrying body warmth, carrying the most genuine kindness and expectation in their lives, rising lightly.

At first, it only twinkled sporadically, like stars just appearing in the night sky.

But soon, this spark spread like wildfire, with countless points of light rising from all directions and from every inhabited land.

They traversed dense jungles, skimmed across turbulent seas, flew over snow-capped mountain peaks, and crossed vast plains... like rivers flowing into the sea, or birds flocking to the phoenix, converging from every corner of the world towards the same direction—that figure standing atop the mountain, holding a wooden statue and a divine sword.

The points of light grew more numerous and denser, eventually converging into dazzling bands of light, vast rivers of light, and an endless sea of ​​stars woven together by the beliefs of countless beings!

The light was not dazzling; instead, it carried a comforting warmth and purity, as if it embodied all the courage, hope, trust, and prayers in the world.

They pierced through the dark, blood-red demonic clouds that shrouded the sky and earth, dispelling the pervasive despair and deathly silence, illuminating the entire dim battlefield and even the more distant horizon, as if daylight had returned.

At this moment, all people are of one mind, and their will is as vast as the sea.

Saving the people from suffering...

It is the common people.