Clan Rise: Starting as a Grandfather Chapter 1298 - 843: Frightening Off Mo Xuanyu

After swiftly disposing of the Lian family clan leader, Yang Zhenshan pivoted to lock eyes with Xuanzhen.

Xuanzhen currently drifted in the air, his form cloaked in a gentle gale; his cultivation technique rendered his silhouette blurred, reminiscent of a specter.

Upon catching sight of Yang Zhenshan, Xuanzhen's gaze immediately darted toward the distance.

He was hunting for Mo Xuanyu, and Yang Zhenshan instantly perceived his intent—the man hoped to manipulate Yang Zhenshan into eliminating Mo Xuanyu.

Giving a slight shake of his head, Yang Zhenshan’s form wavered, and he dissolved into nothingness once more.

The moment was ill-suited for confronting Mo Xuanyu, primarily because Yang Zhenshan lacked the requisite confidence for a victory. After all, Mo Xuanyu boasted a mid-stage Foundation Establishment cultivation coupled with formidable techniques; whether in sorcery or magical items, Yang Zhenshan likely found himself outclassed.

Witnessing Yang Zhenshan slip away, Xuanzhen felt a surge of frustration.

Meanwhile, Mo Xuanyu, who had been guarding the rear, sensed an intrusion and cast a suspicious glance toward Xuanzhen’s location.

Left with no alternative, Xuanzhen ascended into the sky, broadcasting his spiritual sense to feign active investigation for the elusive Yang Zhenshan.

"Who goes there?" Mo Xuanyu transmitted, his voice echoing in their minds.

"I have no idea!" Xuanzhen countered.

In the blink of an eye, Yang Zhenshan emerged again, unleashing another Soul Capturing Skill followed by a swift strike from the Green Glow Sword, decapitating another Martial God Corpse Ghost.

"Who is that intruder?" The ruthless demeanor of Mo Xuanyu shifted into one of grave seriousness.

Yang Zhenshan’s talent for instantaneous movement proved truly overbearing, affording the Martial God Corpse Ghosts zero opportunity for defense.

As he wove through the fray, the already chaotic battlefield descended into further mayhem.

With every flicker and reappearance of his form, another severed head launched into the air.

Within the span of a single breath, no fewer than three Martial God Corpse Ghosts had fallen to the Green Glow Sword.

"Blast it!"

Unable to restrain his rage any longer, Mo Xuanyu drew forth an octagonal bronze lamp. The artifact stretched two feet and seven inches in height, its base inscribed with Soul Suppressing Patterns. The wick cast a sickly blue glow, within which countless tormented ghosts clawed, desperately straining to escape the lamp’s reach.

"Suppress!"

The eerie cerulean radiance fanned outward, casting an invisible weight across the expanse. Many survivors of the Beishi family who brushed against the light instantly succumbed to a deep slumber—or rather, their very divine souls were snuffed out entirely.

When Yang Zhenshan materialized near a remaining Martial God Corpse Ghost, he felt a chilling soul-force penetrate his sea of consciousness, sharp as frozen steel needles piercing his mind.

Yang Zhenshan’s expression faltered ever so slightly as he retrieved the Soul-Attracting Bell and gave it a gentle chime.

A crisp vibration rang out, emitting a ripple of soul power that acted as a direct counter to the unnatural blue light, forcing it to recede swiftly.

Though the suppression lasted only a fleeting instant, it provided Yang Zhenshan sufficient time to put an end to the Martial God Corpse Ghost.

Mo Xuanyu’s Soul Suppressing Lamp was a high-tier divine soul treasure, ranking definitively above the Soul-Attracting Bell; a direct collision would leave his bell shattered. Furthermore, Mo Xuanyu’s divine soul proficiency teetered near the late-stage Foundation Establishment, just a notch stronger than Yang Zhenshan’s own.

Should their souls clash directly, the outcome remained terrifyingly unpredictable.

Since subduing Mo Xuanyu was never his true intention, Yang Zhenshan avoided further engagement with him. After downing his target, he flickered across the battlefield and vanished.

Only one Martial God Corpse Ghost remained, the combatant known as Bai Shangyuan, who was locked in a duel with Shi Pingshan.

Realizing the gravity of the situation, Bai Shangyuan abandoned his skirmish with Shi Pingshan and retreated toward the side of Mo Xuanyu.

Simultaneously, observing Yang Zhenshan’s disappearance, Mo Xuanyu’s countenance turned even more venomous. Seeing Bai Shangyuan’s approach, he surmised that Yang Zhenshan meant to claim him as his final prize.

"Suppress!"

In fluid motion, he hurled the Soul Suppressing Lamp forward, shrouding the sky above Bai Shangyuan in spectral blue light. The overwhelming pressure of his divine soul descended with tangible force, crushing the area within ten feet around Bai Shangyuan.

Bai Shangyuan felt his consciousness falter, burdened as if an invisible mountain were pinning him in place, rendering him entirely immobile.

Yet, Yang Zhenshan did not manifest near Bai Shangyuan; instead, he shimmered into existence directly behind Mo Xuanyu.

The robed figure stood solid, a pair of piercing eyes leveled at the back of Mo Xuanyu’s neck.

"Hah!"

Yang Zhenshan issued a sharp, low command, weaving a seal with his fingers. A three-inch phantom bolt arched from his fingertips, hurtling straight toward the base of Mo Xuanyu’s skull.

Mo Xuanyu’s expression contorted, his sinister gaze burning with sudden fury.

Does this wretch truly dare to ambush me?

Where did he find the gall?

Does he really believe I lack any means of retaliation?

Fury surged within him like an erupting volcano as he bellowed, "You wretched cur!"

By this stage, the Soul-breaking Cone had nearly touched him, closing within three inches, yet it could advance no further.

Observing this, Yang Zhenshan wasted no time; he abandoned the Soul-breaking Cone and vanished in a flicker of movement.

The moment he evaporated, a flood of shadowy, spectral forms surged toward his position. Had he lingered even a moment longer, he surely would have been consumed.

Before Mo Xuanyu now floated the black Ten Thousand Ghosts Banner. The banner stretched three feet long, mounted upon a silver pole and topped with a skull, its fabric saturated with countless malevolent faces.

Yang Zhenshan knew this item well; Xuanzhen had warned him of it previously.

It was a second-rank, top-grade magic treasure—the Ten Thousand Ghosts Banner. According to the intel provided, the banner harbored no fewer than three thousand spectral entities, including over a dozen elite Ghost Generals.