Clan Rise: Starting as a Grandfather Chapter 1366: 874: It's Not Me, It's Not Me!
Previously on Clan Rise: Starting as a Grandfather...
Zhang Yan softly stroked the sword box, pondering if he should pry it open.
As a disciple from Hidden Sword Mountain, he practiced the core sword art known as the Nine Hidden Sword Techniques.
Hiding the blade in one's heart, shattering the blade through will, concealing the sharpness isn't feebleness but supreme mastery feigning ineptitude; dimming the glow isn't timidity, but waiting for the perfect moment to strike.
Forging the sword using the box, nourishing the box via the sword.
To his Sword Dao foundation, the sword box and its contained sword were as vital as the roots to his cultivation base. He would only shatter the sword box if there were no other choice.
Since his Sword Dao remained unformed, forcing it open now would ruin the decades of effort he'd poured into building his sword foundation.
While he wavered on whether to crack open the sword box, three vines abruptly burst from the earth.
Resembling deadly spears, the vines instantly shattered a black-robed cultivator's defensive treasure, skewering straight through his chest.
“Ah!”
The black-robed cultivator managed just a single cry before the vines ripped his body apart.
This abrupt change stunned the other three black-robed cultivators, prompting them to fall back rapidly while scanning their surroundings with caution.
Zhang Yan's face shifted too; he recalled his six flying swords to hover beside him, gripping the sword box firmly with one hand while pressing down on it with the other.
Yet before he could grasp the situation, more than a dozen vines erupted from the soil. Among the trio of black-robed cultivators, only one dodged swiftly enough, as the remaining pair got pierced by the vines.
That swift black-robed cultivator evaded the first strike, but when he soared upward to flee, the vines pursued him relentlessly, as though guided by sight.
Tough and spear-like, the vines thrust upward, stabbing into his body from beneath.
“Ah~”
A piercing wail rang out, with crimson blood spraying across the sky.
Standing on the ground, Zhang Yan's eyes widened in shock as he stared at the vine.
Within that vine, he discerned a realm!
Not Sword Intent precisely, yet a domain strikingly akin to Sword Intent.
“What is this?”
He whispered to himself.
Right then, the vine that had caused such devastation vanished without a trace, leaving behind merely four corpses drenched in gore.
Zhang Yan refocused, scanning vigilantly around him and spotting numerous vines still massacring distant black-robed cultivators.
Only now did realization dawn on him—a Foundation Establishment cultivator had stepped in.
A Vine Skill of such godly prowess couldn't possibly originate from the Qi Refinement realm.
Lifting his gaze, he pierced the swirling black fumes to spot a silhouette clad in cyan robes, casting spells while surveying the chaos below.
Amid the gloomy heavens, this figure shone like a guiding light—not due to his actions, but his very essence.
Though thick black smoke hid the man's features, Zhang Yan sensed that pristine, vibrant aura brimming with life force.
“Who is he?”
The query surfaced in Zhang Yan's mind.
Though Hidden Sword Mountain secluded itself in the Yunxiao Mountain Range, it stayed connected to the outside, far from oblivious to worldly powers. In truth, it possessed keen knowledge of the Sea of Spirit and Qingli Dynasty.
They tracked the precise number of Foundation Establishment cultivators in Qingli Dynasty and their specialties. Collaborations with Qingli's six great families were plentiful too.
For any Immortal Sect to sustain its lineage, it required diverse cultivation resources. Hidden Sword Mountain's reserves ran deep, yet self-reliance was impossible; external sourcing proved essential.
They merely kept a low profile, seeming rarely to emerge.
Zhang Yan remained unaware of Yang Zhenshan's identity, but someone else—strangely both knowing and unknowing of him—did recognize him.
Yang Zhenshan's emergence caught the ghost woman's immediate attention.
Upon spotting him, the ghost woman sensed an aura that felt oddly familiar yet alien.
Lurking amid the rubble of ruins, she fixed her shadowy gaze on Yang Zhenshan, detecting the threads encircling him, and quickly spotted one linking back to herself.
Once she probed the thread's significance, terror flashed across her eyes.
“It’s him!”
Yang Zhenshan had left an indelible mark on the ghost woman, so profound that her recollections remained crystal clear even now.
Still, her emotions toward Yang Zhenshan mixed dread with faint gratefulness.
That dread arose from the time Yang Zhenshan, enveloped in enigma, hurled her into an Ancient Relic Array—a technique baffling her to this day.
The appreciation arose from the tremendous fortunes she seized after stepping into the ancient array, obtaining a cultivation technique perfectly matched to her, and shattering Mo Xuanyu’s dominance over her.
However, within the ghost woman’s heart, fear overwhelmingly surpassed any sense of gratitude.
Soon after, the ghost woman noticed another revelation on that connection—something that heightened her terror of Yang Zhenshan even further.
She uncovered their very first clash, from years prior when she had summoned malevolent spirits via an array in the ancient county city.
During that event, Yang Zhenshan had utterly destroyed her specters using a Qinghua Thunder Pearl.
Even today, that petrifying thunderbolt remained etched in her memory.
“So it was him who did that too!”
Horror spread across the ghost woman’s face.
Suddenly, Yang Zhenshan’s gaze shifted directly toward her.
Countless eyes locked onto Yang Zhenshan right then, but only a rare few could snag his focus, and the ghost woman counted among them.
This stemmed from Yang Zhenshan’s sharp perception that identified the ghost woman as a Foundation Establishment cultivator.
Golden brilliance flared in Yang Zhenshan’s eyes, his profound stare seemingly drilling into the ghost woman’s soul itself.