Chapter 11621 — The Divine Realm Is Too Far Beyond My Reach

With those words laid out, any capable hand with even a shred of ambition, anyone hoping to make a push for the divine realm, now understood exactly what the Path to Godhood was worth.

Han Niansan's offer had naturally become irresistible.

After all, a thing like the Path to Godhood could only be produced by a god-tier powerhouse; across the entire Inner King's Court, those with such depth to their foundation could be counted on one hand.

And to gather seven or more of them, one absolutely could not afford to pass over a single house.

What was more, for Wei Zhao this was merely an incidental benefit.

Even if the man had promised no Path to Godhood at all, the position of King of Han alone was a sure profit with nothing to lose.

Then Wei Zhao spoke: "The divine realm is far too distant from me. Now is hardly the time to be thinking of such things. As for the Path to Godhood you mention, Senior, I have no intention of pursuing it for the moment."

Han Niansan choked on his words.

Had it been anyone else, Wei Zhao's claim would not have been the least bit false.

To be a mere mid-stage Earth-rank Venerable and already covet the Path to Godhood—was that not laughable?

"Your words and your heart don't agree!"

Han Niansan cursed, his patience gone in an instant. His face darkened as he snapped: "In any case, this old man has laid everything out plain for you. How you choose is your own affair. If you will not make the ancestral sacrifice, then you'll be trapped here for the rest of your life and never once think of leaving."

Wei Baizhan rubbed his neck and said: "Old man, if we kill you, does that mean we can leave?"

Every eyelid in the Han Princely House twitched in unison.

Coming from anyone else's mouth, such a threat carried no weight. The ancestral patriarch of the Han Princely House was no clay idol; even if he were not a god-tier or demigod-tier powerhouse, he could not be far from it—did you think you could simply kill him because you wished to?

Yet given the strength of Wei Baizhan and his companions, such a possibility truly could not be ruled out.

If even this ancestral patriarch were slain, then the Han Princely House would truly be at the end of its road.

Han Niansan chuckled darkly: "You're welcome to try."

With that he shed his long robe, revealing a body of lean, hard muscle; the ancient, mysterious aura about him instantly turned menacing and overbearing.

Wei Baizhan and the others all looked toward Wei Zhao.

Wei Zhao, however, gave an ambiguous shake of his head.

In another place, Wei Baizhan and the others might have stood some chance of victory.

But this was the Han Princely House ancestral shrine, the enemy's absolute home ground, and bolstered by that home ground, even if Wei Baizhan and the others made their move, their odds of winning were vanishingly slight.

Han Niansan sneered: "What? Lost the stomach for a fight?"

Li Qinghe stepped forward and curled his lip: "Our leader's too kindhearted—he can't stand to see us bullying an old man. If you were even two years younger, I guarantee we'd beat you so badly your own mother wouldn't recognize you."

"..."

Han Niansan's face went black, and he spat out a curse.

As the ancestral patriarch of the Han Princely House, it had been quite some years since he had met anyone who dared speak to him so rudely to his face.

Yet for all his cursing, so long as Wei Baizhan and the others did not move, he could hardly be the first to strike.

On the one hand, he still hoped to force Wei Zhao into submission.

On the other, the ancestral rite grand formation did not run entirely on its own; it still consumed a great deal of his energy.

If blows broke out and the pressure from Wei Baizhan and the rest grew heavy enough, a single lapse in concentration could open a flaw in the ancestral rite grand formation, and all his efforts would come to ruin.

The two sides sank into a stalemate.

Wei Zhao, the core party at the heart of it all, was in no hurry to break the deadlock; instead he studied the ancestral rite grand formation with considerable interest.

After all, his attainments in formations were likewise at the grandmaster level, so this was, for the moment, right up his alley.

The ancestral rite grand formation was, to a considerable degree, a fitting representative of the very pinnacle of formation craft in the Inner Royal Court; if he could thoroughly work it out, it would count as a rare course of further study for Wei Zhao.

As for Han Changshi and the others, all they could do was exchange glances and wait obediently on the sidelines.

Once matters had come to this pass, after all, they had no say whatsoever.

Only Han Jiechen, watching the scene unfold, grew steadily more anxious.

He had initially thought Han Niansan might be a plant Wei Zhao had brought in, a piece of mystification by which Wei Zhao sought to seize his Han Princely House.

But now the ancestral shrine of his Han Princely House stood before him in sober truth, and however little he wished to believe it, reason left him no choice.

After all, if Wei Zhao's abilities truly had grown so mighty that he could manipulate even the ancestral shrine of the Han Princely House at will, then his own position as Prince of Han was indeed a matter of a single word from the man.

Thud!

Han Jiechen suddenly dropped to his knees before Han Niansan and cried out in a tearful voice, "Ancestral Patriarch, your grandson's abilities are limited, and I have disappointed you. But for the sake of the future and the fate of our Han Princely House, your grandson is willing to brave fire and water, to dash out his brains and spill his blood. I beg you, Ancestral Patriarch, to give your grandson one more chance to prove himself!"

Wei Zhao was slightly taken aback.

The fellow was not quite so much of a fool after all; at least he knew to play on sentiment.

And in fact, this move of Han Jiechen's proved rather effective.

Han Niansan had previously shown him nothing but a cold face and every manner of contempt, yet at bottom the man was still of the direct bloodline of the Han Princely House, and however worthless he might be, there remained the bond of shared incense and lineage.

Unfortunately, it was still not enough to make Han Niansan change his mind.

A single descendant weighed against the future and fate of the entire Han Princely House—there was simply no comparison to be made.

Han Niansan sighed. "You needn't cling so tightly to the thing itself. Even without the name of Prince of Han, this old man can still grant you the finest of opportunities. Cultivate diligently from here on, and there is no saying you won't yet accomplish something."

Han Jiechen was struck dumb for a moment; the earnestness that had graced his face an instant before vanished without a trace, and his expression turned ugly and perverse.

"Round and round it comes, and it's still handing my seat as Prince of Han to an outsider!"

"Ancestral Patriarch? I say you've gone soft in the head with age!"

The words left the whole of the Han Princely House struck dumb with amazement.

This was their twenty-third-generation ancestor, the totem figure who stood for all the forebears watching over the Han Princely House, and at the same time the core trump card on which the house's very existence rested—and Han Jiechen had called him soft in the head with age?

They watched Han Niansan's face, after a brief flicker of astonishment, darken visibly before their eyes, and the Han Chief Steward hurriedly seized Han Jiechen by the arm.

"Your Highness, mind your words! Ancestral Patriarch, His Highness was merely carried away for a moment and his head is not entirely clear—he did not mean to curse you. I beg you to spare him this once!"

The rest of the Han Princely House exchanged glances, then fell to their knees one after another to plead on his behalf.