The Ascension of Contracted Spirits

Chapter 987 - 388: The Sharpness of Ash

"Grey took first place!"

Ling Shi furrowed his brows tightly, glancing repeatedly at Ling Yu beside him.

Seeing her actually swirling the wine glass, delicately savoring the taste of the fine liquor, he grumbled with a toothache,

"Hey, big sis!"

"The current situation is completely unfavorable to us. What have Mang Hao and Grey going head to head for the Corpse Dragon Lady’s contract got to do with us?"

"After all, we crossed a sea to rush here specially!"

"To return empty-handed, having wasted several years for nothing, you may not care, but I’m fuming!"

Ling Yu let out a light laugh, sipped the corpse wine, and said unhurriedly,

"Fussy, I’m surprised you’re also a saint of the family."

"You should know that the melon forcefully plucked is not sweet. Since we’ve lost our importance in the eyes of the Corpse Dragon Lady, insisting further would only bring shame to our family’s reputation."

"So, we’re just going to let it go?"

Ling Shi’s eyes widened, incredulous,

"That’s not like you, big sister. You care about gains more than anyone and wouldn’t suffer a loss easily."

"Our great-grandfather chose you to lead this expedition because he recognizes your ability and trusts your judgment."

"How could it be that at this critical moment, you’re actually backing down, ready to give up the opportunity to compete?"

"What do you know?"

Ling Yu flicked his forehead in annoyance,

"Let me ask you, with our great-grandfather absent due to injury, does it not look like we lack sincerity, being inherently weaker in status?"

"Moreover, with both of them being at the 8th Rank, how do we even intervene? Should we rely on rank advantage to confront them head-on? That’d be ridiculously laughable!"

"Let’s not even mention that Mang Hao’s background is clear as day."

"Even if the Corpse Dragon lineage is in an awkward position, he’s still of the Divine Clan, and those Two Elders of Yin and Yang by his side are figures who could clash with our great-grandfather for a brief moment. In terms of background and strength, we can’t surpass him, nor can we match his compatibility with the Corpse Dragon Lady."

"Grey’s appearance isn’t necessarily bad; if he can snatch the Corpse Dragon Lady’s contract from Mang Hao’s hands, we might witness a fierce battle."

"At that time, our options will multiply, whether it’s getting closer to the Corpse Dragon Lady or either Grey or Mang Hao. The chance to form alliances with powerful clans would equally benefit our family’s development and continuation."

"Ah... You’re playing that angle... You should have said so earlier..."

The eagerness in Ling Shi’s eyes visibly subsided.

He calmed down, observing the nearly triangular standoff between the two and the corpse, unconsciously licking his dry lips.

...

"Grey, you certainly don’t belong to the West Sea. Where do you come from, could you give us a hint?"

Corpse Dragon Lady Shi Ju, having confirmed the successful change in the leaderboard’s score, immediately turned her gaze, focusing on Ye Hanjun’s face.

Upon hearing this, the crowd stirred, pairs of eyes filled with curiosity converged upon him.

Grey—was indeed too mysterious!

Mang Hao’s identity was well known, but Grey, who had just arrived, was almost a complete mystery!

Nevertheless, he carried himself with aloofness, casually appraising four enigmatic corpses and, single-handedly, withstood the scrutiny of dozens of Holy Spirits without changing his expression or skipping a beat.

Such composure could only mean he was either incredibly thick-skinned or well-traveled, having grown accustomed to similar situations.

Who was he, after all?

What was the Supreme Clan behind him, and which power did it originate from?

"I was born in a Hermit Divine Clan; you might not have heard the name of our prime deity."

Ye Hanjun gave a casual smile, effortlessly employing a fabricated identity,

"The Grey Sun God originates from the Ancient Era."

"Crossing an entire Cosmic Era, he has reached the New Era, no longer as illustrious as before."

"If I must evaluate my family’s standing, I suppose I’m not too different from Prince Mang Hao?"

Ye Hanjun ended his last sentence in a rhetorical question.

Such ambiguous words immediately provoked puzzled glances from the crowd.

Shu Jie, Yishuo, Nie Qiubai looked at each other in confusion, utterly baffled.

Ling Shi made a face as if he were wracking his brain, while Ling Yu held her wine glass to her chest, her eyes slightly lost in thought.

"Pardon our ignorance, but the name Grey Sun is... unheard of!"

Guan Cunyan, previously ranked fourth on the leaderboard, said in a stentorian voice,

"I admit, in terms of scholarship, I’m not half as good as you!"

"But you’re not yet a saint, and only have a Holy Spirit as your Guardian. Don’t your clan elders worry about such a sorry Guardian?"

"Your grandpa’s..."

Mu Shoucong snorted out of his nostrils, unable to contain his anger,

"Your mom’s the one who’s a Holy Spirit! I’m Mu Shoucong, and I had a certain reputation within the Holy Clan for several years!"

"Hm, I know."

Guan Cunyan nodded, unabashed,

"There was a Crown Rank battle for Divine Enthronement, and afterwards, god meat was used to stew soup.

He used dozens of ingredients, among which, to remove the gaminess, was a Supreme Saint with Perfection—the guardian onion—this is how the historical record reads."

"*%￥#@!!"

Mu Shoucong’s temper, usually quite good, turned red, then white, then yellow, flickering like a lightbulb, unable to switch off.

This time, he was so angry he couldn’t speak.

Because that part of history was true; his ancestral forebear had indeed been degraded to a culinary ingredient, eaten by a Crown Rank being.

"So what?"

Ye Hanjun’s gaze passed over the crowd and instantly locked onto Guan Cunyan,

"Not only do you question my identity, but you also want to make a name for yourself by provoking me, testing me?"

"Do you know... what the consequences of that would be?"

Ye Hanjun still didn’t unleash his Ability, but the hint of killing intent in his eyes was enough to make Guan Cunyan’s neck arch backward, his breath caught for a moment.

"Such a terrifying aura; how many beings has he killed with his own hands?"

A man codenamed ’Mask’, standing beside Guan Cunyan.

He felt that hint of killing intent indirectly, his soul trembling, a disbelief taking root in his heart.