Clan Rise: Starting as a Grandfather Chapter 1296 - 842: Ghost Soldiers and Corpse Ghosts

"My heart has been strangely unsettled for the past few days!"

"Unsettled?" Shengyuan regarded him with a puzzled expression.

"Indeed, profoundly so, as if a great calamity is drawing near!" Shi Pingshan declared with a grim tone.

For a warrior who has reached the Martial God level, such ominous premonitions are rarely baseless.

Even if they lack the ability to peer into the destiny of the world, they possess an intuitive spike that often senses impending danger.

The usually laid-back Shengyuan abandoned his carefree facade upon hearing this.

"Could it be that our ancestor has encountered peril during his excursion? That seems unlikely; the Nether Prison Sect shouldn't be provoking a conflict with us right now!"

Shengyuan’s initial concern was that Master Yuqian, who had departed for the Ancient Relic Array, might be in trouble; however, after careful contemplation, he concluded that such a possibility was remote.

Beyond the question of whether the Nether Prison Sect would dare ignite a war, the mission involved ten Martial God experts. Even if a skirmish erupted, Master Yuqian’s cultivation should be more than enough to ensure he remained unscathed.

Shi Pingshan furrowed his brow, murmuring, "I cannot say for certain, I simply feel that something momentous is on the horizon!"

Shengyuan rose from his seat, smoothed out his rumpled attire, and draped his cloak over his shoulders.

"Uncle, there is no sense in overthinking this. Should a disaster truly come, we will simply deal with it as it arrives! Worrying excessively not only yields no results but also disturbs the tranquility of your own Dao."

Though his outward demeanor appeared detached, it did not follow that he lacked foresight.

He simply adhered to a philosophy of following one’s heart and moving in harmony with the natural flow. In his eyes, life and one's path of Cultivation were one and the same.

"I shall accompany you for a walk, Uncle!"

With that, he stepped toward the exit. Shi Pingshan, still unable to shake his grim intuition, followed Shengyuan out of the Lingyun Residence.

The pair wandered through the Cloud Abyss Valley, taking in the picturesque vistas and observing the spirited descendants; gradually, Shi Pingshan’s internal agitation began to subside.

What they could not have foreseen was that, at that very moment, Mo Xuanyu and his band of cohorts had already arrived in the vicinity of the valley.

The sprawling Yun Xiao mountain range provided a perfect veil. With over thirty individuals infiltrating the terrain, concealing their movements proved trivial.

Perched atop a rugged peak, Mo Xuanyu, enveloped in dark robes, stared outward, his eyes alight with mockery.

"The Beishi family—ha! It is claimed their history spans even longer than that of the Xuanqing Sect. Who can say if there is any truth to such rumors?" he chuckled softly.

"It is likely a fabrication; the Xuanqing Sect has a history of three thousand years, founded under the patronage of the Heavenly Sword True Monarch from Hidden Sword Mountain, whereas the Beishi family rose to prominence only eight hundred years ago. It is said the first family head established the clan only after securing a position within the Xuanqing Sect." The speaker was an elderly man with a ruddy complexion and flowing white hair.

He was the ancestor of the Lian family, a man who seemed to have defied the very laws of mortality.

His condition was quite peculiar; while his body appeared youthful and devoid of the infirmities of age, a keen observer would sense an icy, malevolent aura emanating from within him.

It was a sinister, freezing presence that reeked of blood.

"No matter the length of their legacy, we shall simply eradicate them!" Xuanzhen glanced down at the Lian ancestor, his voice dripping with irritation.

"Indeed, that is correct! Whether their lineage is long or short matters little—we will wipe them out!" Mo Xuanyu let out a hearty, callous laugh.

The Lian ancestor met Xuanzhen’s gaze, detecting the blatant disdain, yet he dared not retort. After all, Xuanzhen was an Immortal Cultivator, whereas he was a mere Martial Cultivator.

Furthermore, this Martial Cultivator had been transmuted into a Blood Puppet.

The Yin Ghost Department utilized two primary methods to forge Ghost Soldiers: one involved planting a restriction on the Divine Soul for direct control, while the second entailed refining the individual into a Blood Puppet, submerging them in a Blood Pool, and affixing a Corpse Puppet Talisman.

Xuanzhen fell into the first category, serving as a Ghost Soldier under Mo Xuanyu’s absolute command.

The Lian ancestor, however, was of the second type—a Corpse Ghost.

In effect, the Lian ancestor had technically perished, only to be animated as a Blood Puppet through Mo Xuanyu’s dark rituals, even while his consciousness remained partially intact.

The distinction between a Ghost Soldier and a Corpse Ghost was significant; if one could cleanse the restriction from their Divine Soul, a Ghost Soldier might regain their autonomy. Becoming a Corpse Ghost, however, was an irreversible fate; even if Mo Xuanyu were to perish, the Lian ancestor would remain in his cursed state.

This discrepancy was rooted in the fundamental difference between Immortal Cultivators and those who practiced martial arts.

The Corpse Puppet Talisman could subjugate Martial Artists, but it lacked the efficacy to govern the more robust Divine Souls of Immortal Cultivators, who required the internal soul-restriction for total domination.

As Mo Xuanyu laughed, Xuanzhen watched him, his gaze burning with deep, suppressed resentment.

"Just wait. Eventually, I shall turn you into a Corpse Ghost, and then you shall learn exactly what it means to be a puppet."

The vengeful old Taoist nursed his grievances, savoring the dark desire to inflict the same fate upon Mo Xuanyu.

Fortunately, he was a cautious man, merely entertaining the fantasy without any reckless impulses to act.

When night descended, Cloud Abyss Valley settled into a profound and tranquil silence.

Mo Xuanyu and his group drifted stealthily toward the valley under the pale moonlight. Xuanzhen followed, his Spiritual Sense extended to continuously monitor the surroundings.

"There is no need for such jittery behavior; the Beishi family lacks the strength to stop us!" Mo Xuanyu sensed Xuanzhen’s vigilance and mistook it for nervous apprehension regarding the night’s work.

Xuanzhen answered calmly, "A modicum of caution is never wasted."

Hearing this, Mo Xuanyu had nothing further to add.

Though Xuanzhen was a thrall under his control, he maintained his own internal monologue and functioned much like a living man, provided Mo Xuanyu refrained from invoking his binding spells.