Chapter 1159: Mutiny

In the black night, shadows were faint.

Mo Hua raced toward Damao City.

Along the way, scattered camps and stationed cultivators lined both sides.

These cultivators were not Dao Soldiers, but members of the Dahuang Sect who had joined the Dao Soldier Bureau to suppress the rebellion in the south.

Now they too had set up camp with the main Dao Soldier force.

From within the Dahuang Sect's encampment, faint but powerful cultivator auras emanated, many of them Jin Dan.

There might even be a Liu Yuhua True Person.

Mo Hua thought: "My guess was right—the army has moved out, and the Dahuang Sect has followed. The defenses of Damao City must be hollow now—"

"Hurry!"

Mo Hua accelerated his movement, traveling under cover of night in black robes, avoiding the Dahuang Sect's camps and all Dahuang cultivators above Jin Dan, and raced another two hundred li toward Damao City.

At a fork in the road, the karmic thread shifted.

Mo Hua's heart leapt suddenly, and he halted his form.

"Something's wrong. Why do I have such a bad feeling?"

Mo Hua frowned deeply, then found a secluded spot and used the demonic blood he had taken from the Great Tiger days ago, performing the demonic bone divination once more—only to discover, shockingly, that the Great Tiger's aura was gone from Damao City.

"Gone?"

"Dead—?"

Mo Hua's heart trembled, then his expression turned solemn: "No, the karmic thread still exists—it hasn't been severed."

"If the Great Tiger's aura is gone from Damao City, does that mean the Great Tiger is no longer in Damao City?"

"If not in Damao City, then where?"

Mo Hua's gaze darkened slightly; after a moment's thought, he turned his head toward the Dahuang Sect's encampment.

He used demonic bone divination again to verify his suspicion.

Then he erased all traces of his divination, turned back, and walked the way he had come.

This time, he did not avoid the Dahuang Sect's encampment—he observed its formation, found a flaw, and slipped inside quietly.

Within the Dahuang Sect's encampment, there were Liu Yuhua cultivators and many Jin Dan.

Mo Hua dared not make a sound.

Fortunately, the entire encampment was vast; the Liu Yuhua cultivators' spiritual senses could not fully cover it, the Jin Dan cultivators were scattered, and the formations were all newly set up—with many flaws.

As long as Mo Hua moved carefully, he faced no major danger.

In the black night, a blood-red karmic thread, thick with ferocious demonic energy, stretched forward in Mo Hua's karmic vision.

Mo Hua followed this crimson thread to a sealed encampment.

The encampment was surrounded by forged steel, bound by iron chains, densely layered with formations—completely sealed, muffling sound and locking in scent.

Seeing this, Mo Hua's heart stirred, and immediately his spiritual sense swept forward, automatically calculating.

In but a moment, he discerned a flaw within the dense formations.

Mo Hua tapped a finger—the ink spread on the ground, tracing the flaw, forming formation patterns that unraveled the sealed array.

As the formation patterns dissolved, a small gap opened soundlessly between the outer steel locks.

Then, Mo Hua pressed his right eye against the crack and peered inside.

Everything within the iron-chain encampment lay bare before him.

Rather than calling it a military "camp," it was more like a small "beast-taming ground."

Around the perimeter stood many iron cages, each holding various demonic beasts.

In the center, eight iron chains bound a fierce tiger demon with a "King" mark on its brow, black and white striped.

In the center of the arena, eight iron chains bound a fearsome tiger demon with a "King" character on its forehead, its fur black and white striped.

Mo Hua's heart cleared with sudden understanding, yet also surprise.

This Young Master Tuoba—he took his campaign to war, yet still brought this Great Tiger along?

How much did he truly love this tiger?

At that moment, in the center of the ground, eight burly men at Foundation Establishment peak tugged at the chains, wrestling with the Great Tiger.

Several Jin Dan cultivators whipped the Great Tiger with leather whips.

This was clearly some form of "beast-taming" technique—continuously draining the Great Tiger's strength to cultivate its obedience, until it finally submitted and obeyed.

The Great Tiger was furious, struggling and roaring at the surrounding cultivators.

The Dahuang Sect cultivators around it wore cold expressions, relentlessly torturing the Great Tiger to wear down its ferocity.

Mo Hua's gaze turned icy; he was about to act—then forced himself to hold back.

This was the Dahuang Sect's encampment.

There were Liu Yuhua cultivators and many Jin Dan guarding it; if he acted now, he would never escape their grasp.

The Great Tiger would be in danger too.

And his unauthorized intrusion into the Dahuang Sect's camp was already a violation of military orders—if trouble erupted, even the Yang family could not protect him.

This situation had hit a dead end.

He could only plan again, more carefully.

Mo Hua's expression was solemn; for now, he truly had no better option.

Time was slipping away—the sky was growing late.

He still had to return to the military camp as soon as possible, or he could not explain himself to Brother Yang.

Mo Hua sighed inwardly, gave one last deep look at the Great Tiger, and reluctantly turned away.

Mo Hua sighed inwardly, cast one last deep look at the great tiger, and reluctantly turned to leave.

In the camp, the great tiger seemed to sense something, its temper suddenly turning violent, unleashing its demonic energy, and the eight Foundation Establishment cultivators were violently torn through the air by it.

But this only provoked even crueler suppression from the Jin Dan cultivator.

The Jin Dan cultivator's suppression still failed to quell the great tiger's ferocity.

The great tiger roared and bellowed, its demonic aura raging wildly.

Its power shook the surroundings.

The demonic beasts locked in iron cages nearby trembled in fear from the tiger's aura.

Three or four Jin Dan cultivators of the Da Huang Sect all wore solemn expressions and trembled as they exclaimed:

"This vile beast is still only second-rank, yet it possesses such terrifying presence?"

"This is truly a great fortune for Young Master Tuoba—"

"No more talk—quickly subdue it, or if the demonic aura leaks out, trouble will follow—"

The Jin Dan cultivator's whip and spells grew even fiercer, striking the great tiger from all sides.

The great tiger was covered in wounds but refused to submit.

Yet after roaring and struggling for a long time, and sensing no one coming—even the familiar aura it knew had vanished—the great tiger's expression sank into despair. It lowered its head and lay on the ground, unresponsive to the Da Huang Sect cultivators' beatings and curses.

The Da Huang Sect Jin Dan cultivators exchanged glances.

"What's wrong with this vile beast? Why is it acting so strangely?"

"Forget it. At least it's calmed down—that's a good thing."

"Perhaps it realizes there's no hope left and has given up—"

"Given time, its ferocity may be worn down. That'll be enough to satisfy Young Master Tuoba—"

Outside the Dao Soldier camp.

Mo Hua found a secluded spot, changed into Dao Soldier attire, then returned openly to the camp and found Yang Jiyong.

Yang Jiyong, though not surprised by Mo Hua's return, finally exhaled in relief.

"Did you find it?"

"Mm." Mo Hua nodded.

But he couldn't retrieve it.

"That's fine," Yang Jiyong said, unaware of the details, "Rest before dawn. We must keep marching tomorrow."

"Alright."

Yang Jiyong left.

Mo Hua returned to the camp, lay on his bed, still preoccupied with the great tiger, wondering how he could rescue it.

But no matter how he thought about it, it was a dead end.

Forcing a rescue would anger the Da Huang Sect—he couldn't possibly handle the consequences.

Even if he rescued the great tiger, they could never escape.

The great tiger was right inside the Da Huang Sect's camp, surrounded by Dao Soldiers.

If he showed himself and the demonic aura leaked out, the Da Huang Sect wouldn't let it go, and the Dao Soldier Bureau would execute it on the spot.

Either way, the great tiger would die.

Mo Hua sighed helplessly.

Plans never keep up with changes.

He had originally planned to rescue the great tiger in Da Mo City, but never expected Young Master Tuoba would bring it along.

The good news is, now the great tiger will accompany the Dao Soldiers southward toward Da Huang.

The bad news is, now

trying to rescue the great tiger is even harder than before.

Mo Hua lay on his bed, his eyes shifting restlessly.

In the following days, the Dao Court army continued advancing toward Da Huang, and its marching speed grew ever faster.

Mo Hua's thoughts were almost entirely focused on rescuing the great tiger.

Yet after much thought, he still had no good plan.

After another full seven days, the vast Dao Court army drew near to Fengbo Ridge, one of Da Huang's passes.

Fengbo Ridge: winds howled for three thousand li, the desert sea like celestial waves.

Endless barren mountains and ghostly peaks stretched along both sides of Da Huang, like phantoms—dark, eerie, and sinister.

This was a pass of Da Huang—and a treacherous place.

When the Dao Soldiers reached Fengbo Ridge, it was nearly dusk; as night deepened, they set up camp outside the ridge.

The entire camp buzzed with noise. Once everything was settled, it was already deep night.

Mo Hua lay on his bed, listening to the wind howling like ghosts, feeling the extreme temperature shift between day and night in the desert, and as he realized he was now "enlisted" for war, a strange, novel sense of grandeur rose within him.

Of course, after the grandeur faded, his mind returned to the great tiger.

But there was nothing he could do.

He was only Foundation Establishment—he couldn't possibly "steal the tiger" under the eyes of Da Huang Sect's Liu Yuhua and Jin Dan cultivators.

"Great tiger—"

As Mo Hua pondered, suddenly his heart jolted with alarm.

This jolt was stronger than any before.

It meant—

"The great tiger is in danger?"

Uneasy, Mo Hua quietly rose, tried to divine its fate—but nothing came to him.

He flicked a copper coin, but discerned nothing.

Mo Hua frowned, sensing something was amiss.

"How can it not be divined?"

"Is the karmic thread severed? Or has the Big Tiger truly come to harm?"

Mo Hua pondered for a moment, ultimately unable to rest easy, and decided to go see for himself and confirm the Big Tiger's safety.

If the Big Tiger was truly in danger, he would no longer care about consequences—he'd have to break the pot and take it one step at a time.

Mo Hua changed into a black robe, concealed his presence, and slipped away from the Dao Soldier encampment with Cheng Guigui.

The night was heavy, the desert wind bleak, biting his skin like razor blades.

Mo Hua braved the desert wind, merging into the darkness, crossing wave after wave of ghostly mountain ridges, alone, until he reached the Dahuang Sect's encampment.

The encampment's array, especially the second-rank array, was extremely tight.

But to Mo Hua, the supreme master of Qian Learning's array arts, it was riddled with flaws.

Mo Hua moved with ease, bypassing the array's vigilance, once again entering the Dahuang encampment.

Soon, Mo Hua found the tent again, bound by iron chains.

Mo Hua tapped a finger, unraveling the array at one corner of the tent, and peered inside with uneasy heart.

The Big Tiger lay sprawled in the center, covered in bloodied wounds, seemingly injured, but its massive head stirred slightly, its breath still even.

The great tiger lay sprawled in the center of the arena, its body covered in bloodied wounds, seemingly injured, but its massive head stirred slightly, its breath still steady.

Mo Hua exhaled a long, relieved breath.

Though injured, at least its life remained, and inside the tent, the atmosphere was calm, with no immediate danger.

Outside the tent, several Jin Dan were drinking to ward off the cold, and had not tortured the Big Tiger.

Faint, fragmented voices drifted over—these Jin Dan were chatting.

Mo Hua considered, crept closer, held his breath, extended his spiritual sense, and listened to their words.

These Jin Dan spoke only trivial matters, nothing secret, so they didn't lower their voices, seemingly unafraid of being overheard.

These several Jin Dan were chatting about trivial matters, nothing secret, so they spoke without lowering their voices, seemingly unafraid of being overheard.

"If I don't drink, I can't stand it—"

"This damn place, Dahuang, isn't fit for humans."

"Good thing this beast has grown quiet, stopped causing trouble—otherwise, we'd all suffer."

"Stop calling it 'beast'—if you truly tame it, this is a 'King Beast,' not something we dare offend."

"If you keep calling it 'beast,' and the Young Master hears, he won't spare you."

"If you shout 'evil beast' again, and the Young Master hears it, he won't spare you."

"The Young Master hasn't tamed it yet, has he?"

"He's almost there—the ferocity is worn down; these past days, its temper has grown much gentler."

"Too bad—if we'd caught it sooner, we might've earned more rewards."

"What a pity—if we'd arrived sooner, we might have earned even more rewards."

"Drink."

After that, they said no more, only chatted about daily cultivation, Dahuang Sect personnel transfers, and complaining about the harsh environment and not wanting to stay long.

Mo Hua stopped listening, looked up at the Big Tiger, confirmed it was unharmed, and turned back toward the Dao Soldier camp.

But along the way, Mo Hua's mind was heavy with doubt:

The Big Tiger was fine—then why had his heart just fluttered?

And Mo Hua suddenly realized he had overlooked something:

Why had the Tuoba Young Master been so obsessed with taming the Big Tiger?

Though the Big Tiger was indeed majestic, black-and-white, fluffy, both sacred and domineering, clearly an extraordinary breed, beloved by all who saw it.

But wasn't the Tuoba Young Master too fixated?

Mo Hua frowned, puzzled, and even after returning to camp and lying on his bed, listening to the wailing desert wind, he remained troubled, unable to sleep.

Mo Hua frowned in confusion; even after returning to camp and lying on his bed, listening to the wailing desert wind beside his ears, he remained puzzled and couldn't sleep.

?? Yang Jiyong came to patrol the camp.

His patrol's focus was Mo Hua.

The other Dao Soldiers didn't matter—he feared only that Mo Hua might flee or meet with misfortune.

After all, an array master like Mo Hua was a talent impossible to find even with lanterns.

If anything happened to him, Yang Jiyong would truly regret it to his bones.

Yang Jiyong entered the tent, his first glance going straight to Mo Hua.

One look wasn't enough—he stepped closer, wanting to see if Mo Hua was asleep, if he was still breathing.

But as he approached, he saw Mo Hua's large eyes flickering in the darkness.

But as soon as he stepped inside, he saw Mo Hua's large eyes flashing in the darkness.

Yang Jiyong felt awkward, and chuckled nervously: "The wind here at Fengbo Ridge is strong, the sand and gravel thick—cold at night. Are you accustomed to it?"

Yang Jiyong felt a bit awkward, then chuckled and said, "Here at Wind Ridge, the wind is strong and the sand gritty; the nights are cold and chilly—have you gotten used to it?"

"Good to hear," Yang Jiyong smiled. "Rest early."

Saying this, he didn't wish to disturb Mo Hua further and turned to leave.

But in the instant he turned, Mo Hua's expression changed—he suddenly grabbed Yang Jiyong.

Yang Jiyong froze, startled: "Wha—what's wrong?"

Yang Jiyong looked stunned and asked, "What—what's wrong?"

Mo Hua stared fixedly at Yang Jiyong's forehead.

The night was too dark; at first he couldn't tell, but when Yang Jiyong turned, the lamplight fell on his face—no glow at all, still a dull gray, his yintang dark and dim, as if shrouded in a layer of death's omen.

Will Yang Jiyong die?

Mo Hua's heart clenched sharply.

"Big Brother Yang, what did you just do?" Mo Hua asked quickly.

Yang Jiyong hesitated, "Patrolling the night—"

"What about during the day?"

"During the day I didn't do anything special—just marched and set up camp." "Anything else?" Mo Hua said. "Did you do anything unusual, or encounter anyone or anything different from usual?"

You must tell the truth—no hiding anything!

Yang Jiyong was confused, but seeing Mo Hua's solemn expression, he thought hard, then finally shook his head:

"Just like always."

Mo Hua frowned.

When he first saw the death omen on Yang Jiyong's forehead, his first thought was that he'd encountered something "unclean" in Fengbo Ridge.

But now it seemed not.

He hadn't done anything special, which meant this "death omen" was indiscriminate.

Indiscriminate meant the Dao Soldier war?

Were the barbarian troops coming to raid the camp?

But Mo Hua thought again, and felt it wasn't that simple.

This was the Dao Court's main army—how could barbarians easily raid a camp?

Moreover, Yang's squad of Dao Soldiers was "bringing up the rear"—

the rearguard. Even if they fought the barbarians, they'd charge in last.

Yang Jiyong was a second-rank junior commander, seasoned in countless battles—he couldn't die so easily.

Unless the threat came from behind?

Behind was—

Mo Hua's pupils contracted. "Da Huang Men?!"

But that—was also unlikely. Not because Da Huang Men couldn't rebel, but why would they?

Da Huang Men did dominate a region, its power immense, its strength rivaling a fifth-rank sect—all true—but even so, it was still just one sect. How could it dare defy the Dao Court?

Had they grown tired of life?

Yet the karmic omen was unmistakably this.

In a flash, Mo Hua remembered the great tiger—

Why had Young Master Tuoba gone to such lengths to tame the great tiger?

Was it because he wanted to use the great tiger as a "mount"?

Mo Hua remembered when Elder Ji had told him in Xiaoyi City:

"'Tiger' originates from Bai Hu, one of the Four Symbols, and symbolizes the Wang Zu of Da Huang."

"Legend says every adult Wang Zu who seeks power and dominance must tame a powerful 'ferocious tiger' as a mount, to proclaim their bloodline."

Wang Zu of Da Huang—seeking power and dominance—taming a powerful ferocious tiger as a mount—

Mo Hua shook his head.

But that didn't fit—Young Master Tuoba was the son of Da Huang Men's sect leader.

Da Huang Men's sect leader wasn't Wang Zu of Da Huang.

At this thought, Mo Hua suddenly froze.

Da Huang Men's sect leader was Young Master Tuoba's father; as sect leader, he suppressed Da Huang and certainly couldn't be Wang Zu of Da Huang—but—

What about Young Master Tuoba's mother?

Mo Hua recalled carefully: at the military banquet that day, he had seen Da Huang Men's sect leader with his own eyes—his build and appearance were unmistakably those of a Jiuzhou cultivator.

But Young Master Tuoba was taller, his features more handsome, with a hint of wildness.

That wasn't strange—growing up in Da Huang, absorbing some of its wildness was normal.

Mo Hua hadn't thought much of it at first.

But what if—Young Master Tuoba's mother was from the Da Huang tribe? Even, perhaps, Wang Zu of Da Huang?

Then Young Master Tuoba would possess the bloodline of Wang Zu of Da Huang.

That's why he went to such lengths to tame the great tiger—to use this king among beasts as his own royal mount.

If true, then Da Huang Men, directly under the Dao Court, had long since become, through bloodline intermarriage, the Wang Zu's "Da Huang Men." A chill surged through Mo Hua's core.

Mo Hua involuntarily drew in a sharp breath.

All these thoughts, though spoken slowly, flashed through Mo Hua's mind with terrifying speed.

Yang Jiyong was just—

frowning, wanting to ask Mo Hua what was wrong.

But Mo Hua seized Yang Jiyong's arm and asked in a low, grave voice: "Big Brother Yang, do you trust me?"

Yang Jiyong blinked, then slowly nodded.

Mo Hua's expression was solemn; he lowered his voice: "Da Huang Men may—also be rebelling."