Clan Rise: Starting as a Grandfather Chapter 1444 - 910: Martial Immortal Ceremony, Something Went Wrong (2)

Because the establishment of Qingli Immortal City ensured substantial profits for both the Lingxiu Three Sects and the Nether Prison Sect, a lack of significant conflict of interest currently existed between them. In fact, cooperation was essential in numerous areas.

Han Jiangche’s presence at Zhang Xian’s Martial Immortal Ceremony this time served as a clear indication of the Nether Prison Sect's current stance.

"Please be seated, esteemed guests!"

Zhang Xian, from the high platform, extended a casual invitation for the guests to take their seats.

"Mm."

Lin Daoyuan took his seat, simultaneously exchanging a knowing glance with Yue E.

Yue E responded with a slight shake of her head before calmly lifting her teacup for a delicate sip.

Aware of Zhang Xian's deep-seated animosity towards the Nether Prison Sect, they found his current courteous treatment of Han Jiangche rather peculiar, especially considering his recent instigation for war against the sect.

Lin Daoyuan's gaze lowered slightly as he contemplated the possibility that Zhang Xian might merely be feigning cordiality with Han Jiangche. After all, Zhang Xian's profound hatred for the Nether Prison Sect was a well-kept secret, known perhaps only to the inner circle of the Wuxiang Sect, himself, and Yue E.

Once all attendees were seated, the Martial Immortal Ceremony commenced officially.

Yang Shenwu, clad in a majestic dark Cloud Brocade robe, approached the front of the platform and proclaimed in a resonant voice, "On this auspicious day and at this propitious hour, Heaven and Earth unite in joyous celebration! Today, a Disciple of the Wuxiang Sect, Zhang Xian, has attained the Divine Soul Realm. Thus, we inaugurate this Martial Immortal Ceremony, respectfully inviting Heaven and Earth to bear witness!"

As his words concluded, the bronze chime rack to the east of the square and the vermilion-lacquered war-drum platform to the west simultaneously resonated.

Thirty-six chime bells, varying in size, were arranged in sequence upon a cloud-patterned wooden frame. Their bodies were intricately cast with auspicious patterns and spirited beast motifs. Nine war drums, covered with taut deerhide, stood upon frames sculpted into coiling dragons with uplifted heads, their drumsticks meticulously wrapped in soft silk.

With a subtle signal from the ceremonial officer, eight Qingyi musicians gracefully unfurled their sleeves. Each wielding a jade mallet, they moved among the chime bells, striking them with precision. The resulting bell tones, clear and ethereal, cascaded like a gentle spring stream, creating rippling layers across the square. The higher notes were as delicate as morning dew drops falling on lotus blossoms, bright and crystalline, while the lower tones resonated like heavy stones plunging into a deep pool, imbued with a profound hum.

Concurrently, four Martial Artists adorned in yellow robes advanced with measured steps to the drum platform. They gently tapped the drumheads with their silk-wrapped mallets. The drumbeats emerged like the muffled thunder of early spring, low and rhythmic, harmonizing with the chime bells to form a tranquil cadence.

The solemn and resonant music drifted over the ornate eaves and painted brackets, subtly stirring the copper bells adorning the roof corners into a faint, melodious jingle.

A hushed silence enveloped the assembled crowd in the square. Upon the music's conclusion, a unified chorus of congratulations arose: "Congratulations to the Master on achieving the Martial Immortal Realm!"

Zhang Xian ascended the elevated platform, offering a slight nod to Yang Shenwu before addressing the attendees. "I recall in my youth, when I first took up the sword to seek the Martial Dao. The cold would seep into my robes, and frost would whiten my temples. I practiced amidst the spring blossoms and trained through the autumn leaves; I endured the scorching summer heat and battled the biting winter frost—only through such trials did I catch a glimpse of the Divine Soul Realm's threshold. The immense hardships I faced—without the Sect's profound guidance, how could this day have come to pass? When drinking water, one must always remember its source; my gratitude is etched deep within my very being!"

Having spoken, he bowed once more to Yang Shenwu and continued, "I once gazed upon the vast, boundless sea and realized my own insignificance, like a single grain. I looked up at the lofty heavens and felt my existence as no more than a mote of dust. The Martial Arts are as expansive and unending as a river of stars, instilling profound awe in the Heart Spirit—alas, human strength is finite, yet the desire for the boundless Great Dao remains. It is precisely because the path ahead is so obscured by mist that it compels us, its followers, to race towards it with all our hearts!"

His voice, clear and resonant, carried a transcendent quality. Each word flowed with a pleasing melody, causing the listeners to sway unconsciously, their spirits moved.

Within his eloquent words, Zhang Xian conveyed his deep indebtedness to the Sect, as well as his unwavering dedication and fervent longing for the Martial Arts.

The higher one’s cultivation level, the more profound one’s sense of personal insignificance becomes. In the face of the immense Heaven and Earth, even those at the Divine Soul Realm are but a mere drop in an endless ocean.

It is precisely this feeling of being small that ignites an even greater yearning for the boundless Great Dao.

Following this, Zhang Xian commenced his teachings and the impartation of the Dao, marking the most crucial phase of the Martial Immortal Ceremony.

"In the path of cultivating Martial Arts, the foremost element is 'enlightenment.' When I first achieved the Golden Body Realm, I found myself ensnared by the intricate permutations of techniques. Then, one day, while observing a mountain stream's relentless waterfall, whose form was ever-changing yet still managed to carve through stone and cleave cliffs, I realized the truth. True Martial Arts are not found in the subtle nuances of a single move or form, but in aligning oneself with nature and acting according to one's heart!"

As he concluded, Zhang Xian lightly flicked a finger, sending a trace of True Yuan into the green stone of the plaza. Instantly, a crystal-clear ice lotus unfurled. "Secondly, it lies in 'stillness.' Like this ice lotus—appearing motionless, yet secretly holding the power of ten thousand jun. A Cultivator must find stillness within to perceive the spiritual energy of nature and grasp the essence of Martial Arts."

He chose not to elaborate on the specifics of breaking through to the Divine Soul Realm, instead focusing on sharing his profound insights into the Martial Arts.

The assembled crowd listened with rapt attention and deep enjoyment.

While these insights might not directly accelerate their cultivation, they offered everyone a chance to draw parallels, fostering comprehension of their own unique Martial Arts path.

Time meandered by, and after approximately two hours, Zhang Xian concluded his sermon.

The ceremony transitioned into its final stage: the grand banquet.

An array of rare delicacies adorned each low table, their steam, rich with the aromas of meat and wine, wafting freely through the air.

The atmosphere immediately became jovial, and the exchange of wine cups commenced.

However, a subtle disquiet began to stir within the hearts of some individuals.

Ding Qiu’s brows knitted tighter, and his gaze intensified.

"Master!"

He uttered a low, urgent reminder.

Yang Mingcheng, glancing at the exquisite dishes before him, regretfully set down his chopsticks. He genuinely desired to sample the fare.

It wasn't that he had never tasted such lavish dishes before; rather, he possessed a keen interest in the unique cuisine of the Wuxiang Sect.

Lu Fusheng spoke softly, "There's no need for such tension. With several Martial Immortals present, no harm will befall us."

Ding Qiu, though unable to articulate why, felt an overwhelming sense of impending crisis, as if an immense tide was about to engulf him.

Yang Mingcheng advised, "Better to be cautious than sorry. Uncle, it would be best if you refrained from eating."

It was merely a single meal. All of them were Golden Body Realm Martial Artists; abstaining from food for several days would not induce hunger.

Lu Fusheng perceived Ding Qiu's anxiety as somewhat excessive, yet he still showed consideration for Yang Mingcheng, giving a slight nod and also setting aside his chopsticks.

Just as the trio awaited the ceremony's conclusion, a faint trace of a blood-like scent subtly intertwined with the savory aromas of meat and wine. This scent was extremely subtle, perhaps merely the residual odor within the meat itself, thus escaping notice.

It was not until night descended and the moon ascended its nocturnal perch that the blood scent abruptly intensified.

Upon the elevated platform before the main hall, Lin Daoyuan's expression shifted slightly. "What is occurring?"

He directed his gaze towards Yang Shenwu and Zhang Xian; Yue E, too, had sensed the anomaly, her delicate brows furrowing.

The smile on Yang Shenwu's face vanished, his deep-set eyes darkening immeasurably. "My apologies, this old man is also compelled by circumstances."

Yet, Zhang Xian maintained his placid smile. He raised his cup towards Lin Daoyuan, inquiring, "Why must Senior be so tense? Might I suggest another cup?"

"What have you done?" Lin Daoyuan's face fell instantly.

Yue E slowly rose, tinges of anger coloring her usually cold and aloof features.

Han Jiangche also frowned, observing the four with a look of bewilderment.

In this gathering, he was the sole outsider.

Below, the assembled crowd also detected the shift in atmosphere on the high platform and turned their gazes upward. The previously lively ambiance gradually subsided into quietude.

"Something is amiss," Ding Qiu murmured.

Yang Mingcheng, recognizing the change, nodded in silent agreement.

Lu Fusheng's expression tightened. "What is happening?"

How could Ding Qiu possibly know the specifics? He simply sensed that something was profoundly wrong, and the dire premonition in his heart intensified with each passing moment.

"Master!"

Yang Mingcheng flipped his hand and produced a Jade Token, preparing to make an escape at a moment's notice.

"Senior, quickly hold onto my arm!"

"Uh... what for?" Lu Fusheng inquired, perplexed.

"Just grab it for now!"

Yang Mingcheng extended his arm forward. Lu Fusheng paused briefly before grasping it. Though this physical contact felt somewhat improper, he deemed it prudent to hold on; it wouldn't cause any harm, after all.

At that precise moment, Yue E, positioned on the elevated platform, took to the air. The pristine white fabric of her dress unfurled, catching the dim moonlight, propelling her upward as she ascended.

This abrupt action left every spectator momentarily bewildered.

However, just as Yue E was poised to escape, a vast and intricate net materialized in the shadowed night sky. It unfurled, encompassing the entirety of the plaza.

Innumerable crimson threads were interwoven with striking density, casting a lurid, blood-red hue upon both the moon and the stars.

Observing the formidable net obstructing her path, Yue E flicked her sleeve. Her palm, as white as jade, shot forward.

With a resounding BOOM~~

In the subsequent instant, she was forcefully repelled downwards from her aerial position.

"Hahahaha~~ Since you've all graced us with your presence, why the haste to depart?"

A boisterous laugh echoed, its vibrations spreading across the atmosphere akin to a pebble dropped into a tranquil lake.

"We extend our utmost respect and welcome to the Honored Deacon!"

Yang Shenwu, Zhang Xian, and the other cultivators at the Foundation Establishment stage within the assembled crowd all rose to their feet and bowed reverently towards the main hall.

Without delay, a figure emerged from within the hall. He was clad in a flowing blue robe, his hair as white as a crane's plumage, and his countenance resembled that of a child. A gentle smile graced his lips, and within his profound eyes, nothing was discernible but a placid warmth.