Chapter Forty-Three: The Decline of the Shangguan Immortal Clan

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“So? After finally revealing yourself, are you seeking utter annihilation?” You Xiyue gazed coldly at the ancestral spirit of the Shangguan family, the Moon Glow Sword in her hand crackling with fierce lightning, emitting a sizzle.

Lan Xing stared in astonishment at the girl before him, who appeared scarcely more than a teenager by bone age, utterly incredulous. He knew well that family spirits were formed and sustained by the accumulated faith of an entire clan across its history. Only spirits could contend with spirits; no one had ever heard of a human capable of standing against such power.

When they seized the Ming family crest on the thirty-seventh continent, the Ming family spirit had hidden itself, refusing to face the Shangguan spirit, entirely because it sensed the latter’s presence and dared not fight.

But what was happening now?

Just how powerful was this girl’s cultivation?

Shangguan Hong, stunned by Junyang’s distraction, finally caught a moment to breathe.

After You Xiyue intercepted its attack, the Shangguan spirit sensed things were turning dire.

Junyang had never expected the other side would summon its ancestral spirit to attack him. If You Xiyue hadn’t intervened just now, he would surely have been injured.

“Little Ancestor,” Junyang tugged at You Xiyue’s sleeve, “let me handle this.”

Junyang opened his palm, and a bronze token engraved with a fierce serpentine beast floated above it.

“Since you’re so fond of seizing the faith power of other family spirits, perhaps you should contribute some to mine.”

You Xiyue glanced at the token, sheathed her sword, and stepped aside to give Junyang the place in battle.

The bronze token’s monster-eyed serpent suddenly emitted a spectral blue light.

The glow grew ever sharper, and in a blur, a colossal blue-winged serpent soared skyward, circling several times with a deep sigh.

“At last, you’ve released me.”

The serpent was so immense that even Phoenix Perch Mountain seemed too small for it.

Under the serpent spirit’s shadow, the sky turned as dark as night.

Beasts across Phoenix Perch Mountain scattered in panic, hiding as if the world’s end had come.

The Shangguan spirit’s features cracked, its mustache trembling.

A low-tier spirit of the Immortal Realm could never withstand the intimidation of a top-tier divine spirit.

“Spare me, divine one!”

The Shangguan spirit’s mind nearly ceased, forgetting even to withdraw the family crest.

Lan Xing pulled Shangguan Hong to his feet, stammering, “Y-young M-master… what do we do…”

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Shangguan Hong was already stupefied by the monstrous being overhead, gaping in shock, unable to react.

The serpent spirit looked down at the frail Shangguan spirit with disdain. “Not even enough to fill a tooth gap.”

Junyang was in no mood to jest with his own family spirit. His pupils narrowed, glowing with the same blue light. The serpent spirit sensed this and paused, becoming solemn.

He had not expected this ancient, nearly coeval spirit, sustained by him for hundreds of thousands of years, would be angered by such a lesser rival.

The serpent spirit opened its vast maw, a swirling vortex spinning within, and the Shangguan spirit’s body began inching forward, losing control.

“No!” Shangguan Hong and the Shangguan spirit cried out together.

But it was futile—the serpent spirit did not even blink.

The vortex spun faster and faster.

The Shangguan spirit was lifted into the air, inexorably drawn toward the vortex.

Shangguan Hong, desperate, chased after it, trying to grab the spirit, but his leap fell short—the spirit had already entered the serpent’s mouth and was swept into the vortex.

Shangguan Hong collapsed in despair, regret overwhelming him.

How could he have imagined such powerful people existed in this mere upper realm?

The Shangguan family was utterly ruined by his hand.

Lan Xing gripped the Shangguan family crest nervously, taking a long moment to accept the reality: their spirit had been swallowed.

A crisp shattering sound rang out—the crest in Lan Xing’s hand exploded, fragments scattering.

With that sound, Shangguan Hong began to age, no longer youthful but turning into a middle-aged man.

He stretched out his hands, watching as wrinkles crept over his once smooth palms, tears streaming uncontrollably. If he had changed so much, what would become of the elders of the family?

At that moment, every clan member over ten thousand years old in the Shangguan family had become white-haired, frail old men, some barely able to walk.

The clan was thrown into utter chaos—no one knew what had happened.

The Shangguan patriarch, Shangguan Hong’s grandfather, had shriveled to skin and bones and passed away.

The crest fell from Lan Xing’s hand to the ground. Trembling, Lan Xing quietly slipped a hand into his storage pouch, took out a jade talisman, and crushed it.

With a whoosh, a gale swept through, dust swirling.

When the air cleared, Lan Xing was gone.

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Junyang’s cold eyes swept the scene. He walked to Shangguan Hong, looking down at the man still kneeling, “If you can’t even see through those closest to you, this outcome is only fitting.”

Shangguan Hong’s fists clenched full of earth, his head bowed in regret.

Junyang was right. It was because he’d listened to Lan Xing that he came to the upper realm to seize another family’s spirit and faith power.

Thinking further back, it was also because of Lan Xing that he challenged the Hai family of the Immortal Realm to a spirit duel.

Perhaps from the very beginning, Lan Xing had set a trap for his family.

But she was just a lowly maid—what benefit could she gain from such a scheme?

Shangguan Hong could not fathom it, nor did he have the energy to try.

Feng Qinghe, seeing the battle was over, hurried to Feng Yanhua’s side.

By now, Feng Yanhua had barely a breath left.

Feng You had been thrown onto another hillside, unconscious—the Feng clan suffered grievous injuries.

You Xiyue and her companions paid no further heed to Shangguan Hong and returned directly to the Feng clan.

Feng Qinghe instructed the less injured servants to carry all the severely wounded clansmen back, then took out a jade slip to summon family members long out of contact: Feng Tianwu and Feng Tianyang.

“Big sister.”

“What is it?” Feng Tianwu’s tone was cold.

“Fourth uncle may not last much longer. You should return and see him.”

“What did you say?” Feng Tianwu’s composed expression faltered instantly. “What do you mean ‘may not last much longer’?”

Feng Tianyang, nearby, snatched the jade slip and shouted at Feng Qinghe, “What nonsense are you spouting? What does it mean that my father ‘may not last’? Explain yourself, Feng Qinghe!”

Feng Qinghe had no mood to argue with these siblings. “If you return now, you may still catch a last glimpse of Fourth Uncle.”

With that, Feng Qinghe irritably cut off the communication.

He was only at the Reversed Void cultivation stage, and with Feng Yanhua’s death, would the clan leader’s position remain his? And the hatred for his father’s killer—unable to avenge it himself, his heart was in turmoil.