Chapter 1623: Big Brother, There's Nothing Wrong with Old Nine! (First Update)

At this moment—

“Boom!”

The world suddenly changed color! The entire mountain range trembled violently, as a chilling gray mist surged out from the void.

Within that mist seemed to lie the wails of countless tormented souls, enveloping a hundred-mile radius in an instant.

Moreover, pillar after pillar of light, as dark as ink, shot up from where Yan Wuxin fell, piercing straight into the sky!

“The Resentful Domain of a Supreme fallen?!” Zhou Qing smirked.

This only further confirmed that the Yan Family’s Ninth Ancestor Yan Wuxin had completely fallen here.

Without hesitation, he waved his hand, collecting all the Array Discs and Array Flags, then dashed towards his injured second granduncle.

“Second Granduncle, let’s go!”

He hoisted the old man onto his back, simultaneously grabbing the Ten Thousand Year Blood Ginseng squatting nearby.

“Go!”

With a tap of his toes, Zhou Qing transformed into a streak of light, speeding towards the edge of the Domain.

Behind him, the gray mist surged like a living creature, chasing relentlessly, with countless twisted human faces faintly visible within, howling in pain.

…

In the Yan Family, within the Soul Lamp Tower.

“How, how could this be, Ninth Master he—”

The Elder guarding the Soul Lamp stared fixedly at the once vigorously burning Soul Lamp.

Now the wick was rapidly dimming, like a candle snuffed out, until it was completely extinguished.

He rubbed his eyes and pinched himself; once certain he was not mistaken, his face turned as pale as a sheet of paper.

Staggering backward two steps, he nearly collapsed to the ground.

“Ninth Ancestor… has fallen?!”

He trembled as he took out a Communication Jade Scroll, his voice sharp to the point of breaking: “Old, Old Ancestor, it’s terrible news…”

——

Deep within the inverted pyramid, in a dim great hall, on a cold altar, an extinguished Soul Lamp was placed.

The lamp was ancient, the wick charred black.

The Yan Family’s Old Ancestor—Yan Wudao, resembling dry bones, sat cross-legged on the altar, shrouded in a faint, chilling aura.

He was silent, only staring at the Soul Lamp, his brows tightly furrowed.

Below the steps, Fifth Ancestor Yan Wuming, Seventh Ancestor Yan Wutian, and the current Family Head Yan Fengchen stood solemnly, their expressions fluctuating.

“Big Brother, Old Nine was perfectly fine. He clearly went to the Celestial Phoenix Palace to investigate the Shen Family’s old ghost’s situation; how could he suddenly fall? Could it be the Celestial Phoenix Palace’s doing?”

Seventh Ancestor Yan Wutian, with a burly figure, roared, his body surging with Evil Qi, causing the ground beneath his feet to crack in several places.

Yan Wudao remained silent, his deep gaze fixed on the Soul Lamp.

Fifth Ancestor Yan Wuming pondered for a moment, then slowly spoke: “The Celestial Phoenix Palace, though a top overlord of Nanhuang State, always held aloof. If they truly wanted to deal with our Yan Family, they wouldn’t only target Old Nine.”

“Who else could it be?” Yan Wutian irritably flung his sleeve, “Could it be the remnants of the Shen Family? Those pathetic wretches are even worthy of killing Old Nine?”

Family Head Yan Fengchen shook his head slightly, his tone steady yet grave: “Seventh Uncle, there are many forces in Nanhuang State capable of killing Uncle Nine.”

“Aside from the Celestial Phoenix Palace, there are two Temples, three Sects, and four Clans, each with at least three Supremes in residence.”

“Could it be because of that half of the Inscription-level Divine Techniques?” Yan Wutian’s pupils shrank slightly.

Yan Wuming narrowed his eyes, his voice low: “Hard to say. But… based on the itinerary, Old Nine should have returned in these two days, perhaps…”

He suddenly paused, a chill flashing in his eyes, and he sharply looked at Yan Fengchen: “Fengchen, immediately send someone to check if there’s a phenomenon of a Supreme falling in the third tail region!”

Yan Fengchen’s heart trembled: “Fifth Uncle means… Uncle Nine fell near our Yan Family’s territory?”

“Not impossible,” Yan Wuming said coldly, “When a Supreme falls, the world bears great phenomena, far stronger than the Spirit Severing Realm. If someone truly dared to kill our Yan Family Supreme at our doorstep…”

He didn’t finish, but the murderous intent was evident.

Yan Fengchen immediately clasped his fists: “Nephew will check now!”

After he left, the great hall fell into a brief silence.

Yan Wuming and Yan Wutian both looked simultaneously towards their eldest brother on the altar.

Old Ancestor Yan Wudao frowned, his skeletal fingers gently tapping the edge of the Soul Lamp, emitting a dull “dong dong” sound.

After a while, he finally spoke, his voice hoarse: “Even if the place of the fall is found, what use is it? The outcome cannot be changed—ultimately, our Yan Family has lost a Supreme.”

As soon as these words came out, the two fell silent.

Yan Wudao slowly raised his head, a ghostly light flickering deep in his eye sockets: “Old Nine was not a reckless person; he would’ve announced himself before battle. The fact that the opponent still dared to kill him knowing he was our Yan Family’s Supreme suggests only one thing…”

“Someone plans to make a move against our Yan Family?” Fifth Ancestor Yan Wuming suddenly interrupted, cold light flashing in his eyes.

“Clang—”

Seventh Ancestor Yan Wutian suddenly drew a blood-red long saber from his back, the blade vibrating with a piercing whistle.

His eyes widened in fury, the muscles on his burly form bulging with veins: “Whoever it is! Dare to harm my Yan Family people, I will tear them to pieces!”

Yan Wuming remained comparatively calm, saying in a deep voice: “Big Brother, regardless of who they are, if they dared to strike at Old Nine, they must have certain backing.”

“We need to prepare in advance; at least… we must first identify who the enemy is.”

“You want me to perform ‘Soul Tracing Shadow’ again?” Yan Wudao squinted his eyes, his gaunt face appearing even more sinister under the ghostly light of the Soul Lamp.

“Exactly,” Yan Wuming nodded, “The place of fall can be forged, battle marks faked. If misled, we risk becoming the clam and the snipe fighting while the fisherman profits.”

Yan Wutian slapped his thigh, the blade edge sparking on the ground: “Fifth Brother is right!”

“The Secret Technique of ‘Soul Tracing Shadow’ is like a fleeting flower, capable only of instantly revealing the visage of the last person the deceased saw, be it the perpetrator or a witness, none can hide!”

“Last time, we used this Secret Technique to extract Zhou Qing, that little beast, from the Soul Lamps of our nephews Yan Luo and Yan Sen!”

“That’s how we stormed the Holy Martial Dynasty, destroying its sect to avenge our grudge!”

Yan Wudao remained silent for a moment, his skeletal fingers gently caressing the extinguished Soul Lamp, before finally nodding: “… Okay.”

“Big Brother, be sure to take care during this process!” Hearing Yan Wudao’s consent, Fifth Ancestor Yan Wuming quickly reminded.

After all, performing such a fate-defying Secret Technique was extremely perilous; any misstep could result in terrifying backlash.

If not for having no other choice, they wouldn’t dare take such a risk.

Yan Wudao spoke no more, slowly closing his eyes.

“Whoo—”

With an exhalation of turbid air, his emaciated chest suddenly expanded grotesquely.

Under his once shriveled skin, dark red bloodlines began to move like countless tiny worms crawling beneath the surface.

The next moment, Yan Wudao abruptly opened his eyes, in which appeared two bizarre blood-colored Dharma Seals.

His skeletal hands quickly formed ancient Seal Skills, each time his fingers interlocked, dark red blood mist seeped out from his pores.

“Puff—”

He suddenly opened his mouth, spewing a mass of ink-black foul blood, which solidified mid-air, transforming into seventy-two fierce talismans, suspended before him.