Chapter 1184: Bone Carving Array

Mo Hua's gaze sharpened slightly.

He had said it himself—this land of Da Huang was the stronghold of the Evil God; logically, there could be no way the "Evil God" did not exist.

Even if legends of Da Huang claimed the Divine Lord had fallen silent and ceased responding, there could still be no trace of absence.

He simply did not know whether this trace of "Evil God" energy belonged to the old acquaintance "Lord of Da Huang," or to some new Evil God.

Mo Hua sniffed again, then slowly shook his head.

Too bad—

The scent was too faint; even he, an experienced "foodie," could not identify it.

"We must find a way to determine which Evil God this is—."

Mo Hua thought silently to himself.

He did not linger, turned, and left the small cave, walking to where Dan Zhu and the others stood.

Dan Zhu asked: "Mr., what was inside the cave—?"

Mo Hua said: "It's settled."

The leader of Shu Gu tribe, who had originally worn a gloomy, shifting expression, turned pale upon seeing Mo Hua emerge unharmed from the Barbarian God's cave, his heart trembling:

"Impossible! This is the Sacred Ground of the Barbarian God—how could you be unharmed?"

"Impossible—"

"The Barbarian God is great, immortal, inviolable—could he really—?"

The leader of Shu Gu tribe felt his faith begin to waver.

He felt that the lofty Barbarian God might not be as inviolable as he believed.

Yet he quickly discarded this blasphemous "heretical thought."

"No, the Barbarian God is omniscient, omnipotent. The Barbarian God will surely curse and kill this boy…"

The leader of Shu Gu tribe muttered inwardly.

On the other side, Dan Zhu looked at the scattered limbs on the ground, and the arms and legs hanging over the bonfire, feeling both nauseated

and pained.

These were his Dan Que tribe's clansmen.

Now, his own clansmen had met such a tragic end,

"Gather all the bodies of our tribe members, bury them together on the slope, and erect a tribal memorial stone."

Dan Zhu said with a heavy expression.

"Yes, Young Master."

The other tribe members began following Dan Zhu's orders to collect and bury the corpses.

About half an hour later, everything was finished.

Dan Zhu, though still burdened by sorrow, let out a quiet sigh.

This was his first time leading troops on a campaign; though the enemy was not particularly strong, he had nonetheless completed his mission—eradicating the remnants of Shu Gu tribe and avenging his slain clansmen.

"Young Master, the matter is settled. Let us return to the main tribe and report to the Grand Chief," Elder Bachuan said beside him.

"Mm." Dan Zhu nodded.

But inside, Mo Hua thought: trouble.

He had gone to great lengths to "trick" Dan Zhu out of Dan Que tribe—he could not possibly let him return so easily.

Otherwise, all his plans would come to nothing.

The Barbarian God of a third-grade tribe maintained tight defenses.

To "consume" these tribes' Barbarian Gods by stealth was no longer feasible; only open, direct assault on their strongholds and territories would work.

Such large-scale, front-line warfare was beyond Mo Hua's individual strength—he must rely on Dan Zhu and the power of Dan Que tribe.

And Dan Zhu, the Young Master of Dan Que tribe, a prodigy in earth cultivation, had already reached Jin Dan at age twenty, clad in the treasure Li Lingyi, the Vermilion Phoenix Flame Feather Robe—he was the perfect choice for "conquering cities and seizing land."

Moreover, he now had Jin Dan bodyguards and Barbarian Generals under him, along with a hundred elite Barbarian soldiers.

This was an extremely powerful force—capable of dominating the mountain territories of third-grade tribes, so long as they avoided direct confrontation with the main forces of large tribes.

Thus, Dan Zhu would conquer tribes, seize territory, and expand his influence.

Then, improve livelihoods, spread teachings, and reshape the landscape of Da Huang.

Meanwhile, Mo Hua would secretly consume the Barbarian Gods, strengthen his spiritual awareness, and prepare for his own Jin Dan breakthrough.

It was a threefold gain.

If Dan Zhu returned to his tribe, all these plans would vanish.

Mo Hua scanned the surroundings, then suddenly sensed something amiss: "Something's wrong."

Dan Zhu was puzzled. "Mr., what's wrong?"

Mo Hua said: "The number of people is wrong."

"Number of people?"

Mo Hua's gaze sharpened slightly. "The number of people used for 'human roasting' is too few—"

Shu Gu's roaming group numbered roughly six or seven men gathered around one bonfire; these six or seven could consume at most one person.

Even if they ate nonstop for a day, they could have consumed at most thirty to forty people.

Yet the number of Dan Que tribe's able-bodied youths they abducted was far greater—likely at least a hundred more, and none of them are here.

Mo Hua voiced his suspicion.

Dan Zhu was momentarily stunned, then looked at Mo Hua and found it unbelievable.

For these people, such "cannibalism" was merely repulsive and cruel—they would never bother counting heads.

Yet the Witch Master, at a single glance, had already calculated the exact number of victims—this extreme coldness sent an inexplicable chill through Dan Zhu's heart.

But these words from Lord Wuzhu were, to him, no different from good news.

Seeing Dan Zhu said: "You mean, there are still nearly a hundred survivors from my Danque tribe?"

Mo Hua nodded.

The other Danque tribesmen, upon hearing this, exchanged glances, a faint sense of relief stirring in their hearts.

Mo Hua fell into thought for a moment.

He had roughly formed a plan, and ordered Zhong Mingren to remove the gag from the head of Shuguo tribe, then asked:

"What is your name?"

The Shuguo tribe head, still lost in confusion over Mo Hua and doubting the might of the Barbarian God my lord, frowned at the question.

But Mo Hua's gaze was now icy, radiating authority, and the Shuguo tribe head slowly replied:

"My name is——"

From his mouth spilled a string of obscure barbarian script.

Mo Hua, interpreting the meaning, guessed it was "Tie Shuguo," meaning "iron-boned" in barbarian tongue.

"Tie Shuguo——" Mo Hua nodded. "I ask you, where did you take the others from the Danque tribe?"

Tie Shuguo's face changed—he had been exposed.

Yet his mouth remained stubborn: "I don't know what you're talking about—"

Mo Hua stared at Tie Shuguo, his gaze indifferent, his mind racing with thought.

Finding the Danque survivors wasn't that difficult.

But the problem was, what came next: he had to "capture" a demon god.

A demon god would never be easy to capture—otherwise, it wouldn't be a demon god.

Therefore, he needed a "bait"——

Mo Hua's gaze shifted, then narrowed slightly, revealing a hint of danger.

For some reason, Tie Shuguo trembled all over, his bones shaking.

"W-what are you going to do?"

Mo Hua turned his head and said: "Lord Chifeng."

Chifeng fell silent for a moment, then nodded. "Lord Wuzhu."

Over the journey, Mo Hua had demonstrated his sense of direction, strategic planning, speech, bearing, and skill—and just now, his foresight in suppressing Elder Bashan's sinister intent—Chifeng, the barbarian general, had grown somewhat more approving of Mo Hua.

He may not truly believe Mo Hua is Lord Wuzhu, but he knew this "boy," endorsed by the Young Master, was no ordinary man.

Those with ability naturally deserve respect.

Thus, he too addressed Mo Hua as "Lord Wuzhu."

Mo Hua continued: "Lord Chifeng, break Tie Shuguo's two legs again—preferably so the bones show through."

Tie Shuguo's face twisted in terror.

He had no idea what this cruel boy meant—why such cruelty?

Break the legs again? And expose the bones?

Tie Shuguo seethed inwardly, cursing Mo Hua as a born "evil spawn!"

Chifeng hesitated a moment, but did not hold back.

The Shuguo tribe had invaded the Danque tribe and slaughtered its people—they deserved death.

Tribal warfare was always brutal; this Shuguo tribe head, "Tie Shuguo," dying—

was not worth pitying. Breaking his bones alone—

was already leniency.

Chifeng, tall and massive, raised his thigh and crushed Tie Shuguo's thigh bones again, snapping them completely.

The fractured bones pierced through the skin and muscle, exposed.

Mo Hua, seeing the bones, was thoroughly satisfied.

Tie Shuguo, writhing in unbearable pain, cursed Mo Hua from head to toe in his mind, but blood filled his mouth—he could not utter a word.

Mo Hua pressed on: "The question I just asked you—will you answer now?"

Tie Shuguo opened his mouth to speak, but the pain was too great—he could not open it.

Mo Hua nodded. "Good. Tie Shuguo, your bones are iron, your mouth is hard. It seems you won't speak until you've suffered."

Mo Hua thought for a moment, then asked Chifeng to drag Tie Shuguo into the small cave.

Mo Hua took out an array-based torture device, placed it on the ground, and made Tie Shuguo kneel upon it.

This time, the pain was so great, Tie Shuguo lost even the will to curse Mo Hua.

Mo Hua then spoke solemnly to Dan Zhu and Chifeng:

"We split up. You two go outside, track the movements of the Shuguo tribe and interrogate the other captives. I will handle the questioning of Tie Shuguo."

Dan Zhu looked at Mo Hua—calmly, without blinking, as he devised new ways to torture Tie Shuguo—and suddenly felt this Lord Wuzhu was unfamiliar.

It clashed with his memory of the "Mr." who wore compassion on his face, harbored kindness, and advocated tribal equality.

One thought of mercy, one thought of cruelty.

Dan Zhu's heart grew complicated.

Chifeng said nothing more, only: "Then we leave it to Lord Wuzhu."

Dan Zhu thought for a moment, then said: "Mr. —be careful—"

Mo Hua waved his hand. "Don't worry."

After Dan Zhu and Chifeng left, Tie Shuguo writhed in agony on the torture plate, and the small cave concealed them—no one else could sense what transpired. The timing was perfect.

Mo Hua looked at Tie Shuguo's exposed thigh bones, and quietly pulled out a bottle of ink.

Then, in his heart, he silently recalled the Great Wilderness Bone Carving Method he had learned from "Mr. Tu" in the Wild Heaven Blood Sacrifice Array.

Combined with the Wood White Jin Yu bone-casting method he obtained through connections, via the Grand Void Gate's sect leader, from the Bai family's main branch.

Then, with his spiritual sense guiding the ink, silently and unseen, he used the Iron Shu Bone as a "test subject," attempting to draw arrays in midair upon his broken leg bones.

Without Iron Shu Bone's knowledge, the red spiritual ink transformed into drifting threads, curling through the air like dragonflies, then becoming countless ultra-fine serpents that crawled onto Iron Shu Bone's leg bones.

The first array line had just been "carved" onto the bone.

Almost simultaneously, a scream as horrific as a pig being slaughtered erupted, shaking the entire

forest.

Iron Shu Bone's face contorted, emitting a pain too terrible for words.

Even Mo Hua was startled, his ears ringing from the shock.

After that, Iron Shu Bone fainted outright from the pain.

Mo Hua froze.

The next moment, Dan Zhu and Chifeng rushed over, asking:

"Mr., what happened—"

Then they saw Iron Shu Bone, painted with white bone war makeup, his expression dark as a butcher's cleaver, now twisted, drooling,

unconscious on the ground.

Mo Hua calmed down, waved his hand, "It's fine, I went a bit too hard with the punishment—"

Dan Zhu looked at Iron Shu Bone, then at Mo Hua, his heart shocked—he could hardly imagine how severe this "slightly too hard" punishment must have been to make a Jin Dan cultivator scream like a slaughtered pig and lose consciousness.

Chifeng's eyelid twitched involuntarily.

"Then it's 'fine,'" Mo Hua said solemnly. "I'll go lighter next time. You two go about your business."

"Hmm—" Dan Zhu hesitated, asked no further, and left.

Chifeng merely stared at Mo Hua, his expression unconsciously tinged with fear.

After they left, Mo Hua looked at the unconscious Iron Shu Bone and muttered to himself:

"Is drawing arrays on bones really this painful?"

He found it hard to believe.

So he fed Iron Shu Bone several blood-replenishing and pain-suppressing pills, applied minor techniques, and reawakened him.

Iron Shu Bone awoke, his mind still foggy.

Mo Hua drew another array line on his bone.

Extreme pain returned instantly; Iron Shu Bone let out another "——" scream, eyes bulging, and fainted again.

Fortunately, Mo Hua had already set up a soundproof array; this time, the pig-slaughtering scream did not escape.

But Mo Hua's ears still ached from the shock.

Mo Hua looked at Iron Shu Bone's condition, spat a sound, and shook his head: "Looks like it's true—it really is excruciating."

Otherwise, how could Iron Shu Bone, a Jin Dan cultivator, a fanatically devoted leader of the Shu Bone Clan, a man of iron bones and unyielding endurance, have fainted outright from pain?

"Drawing arrays on bones is this painful—it's like 'torture'—"

"Then what do I do?"

Mo Hua was dumbfounded.

When he cultivates his Golden Core, he must draw a second-rank, twenty-four-line Twelve Meridian Glutton Spirit Bone Array onto his own skeleton.

One line was already unbearable for Iron Shu Bone.

But I must draw twenty-four glutton lines in total—how many strokes is that?

Won't I die from the pain?

Mo Hua sucked in a sharp breath, his teeth chattering.

Luckily I had the sudden idea to test this on Iron Shu Bone's bone first—if I hadn't, and had drawn the array on my own bones without warning, I'd probably have died on the spot from the pain.

"What do I do?"

"Take some anesthetic pills? Do such things exist?"

"Or maybe I should just pass out from the pain myself—then draw the destiny array on my bones while unconscious—"

"But—I still need to draw the array. If I pass out, who'll draw it for me?"

Mo Hua's head throbbed.

The Dao is too arduous. Cultivating a Golden Core is too difficult.

Mo Hua sighed, looked at Iron Shu Bone, pondered for a moment, then did not wake him again, nor let him endure the "bone-carving array" torture any further.

After all, he was not a true monster who enjoyed torturing others for amusement.

While Iron Shu Bone remained unconscious and unaware, Mo Hua carved some array lines onto his bone.

Afterwards, Mo Hua prepared to wait for Iron Shu Bone to awaken.

But soon, Mo Hua noticed another problem: apparently because the bone had been inscribed with arrays, Iron Shu Bone's blood qi was draining alarmingly fast.

Even his vitality was steadily leaking away.

Mo Hua frowned.

He realized a more serious issue:

Engraving a destiny array onto the skeleton appears to harm the Dao Body far more than he had previously imagined.

Not only does the entire process involve excruciating pain.

But disrupting the innate skeletal meridian structure also causes significant loss of blood qi and vitality.

The more array lines, the deeper the pain, the greater the bone damage, and the faster the loss of blood qi and vitality.

Mo Hua's frown deepened.

This is no longer merely "troublesome"—it has nearly become a "death calamity."

Without resolving the issue of blood qi depletion and life force leakage, carving your natal array onto your own bones is no different from "suicide."

When you're already dead, what's the point of talking about forming a Golden Core?

Mo Hua sighed deeply.

Practice is the only way to test understanding.

If he hadn't tried this Iron Art Bone, he never would have realized this problem.

No wonder some elders of the Grand Void Gate have always emphasized that cultivation must be steady, that ancient methods must be respected, that references must be followed, and that one must walk a mature and stable Dao path.

Why do so many cultivators flock to the transmissions of major sects?

It's not just because the transmissions of major sects are higher in rank and more powerful.

It's because major sects have transmitted their knowledge for long periods, taught many disciples, encompassed all elemental affinities, all backgrounds, all ranks, and diverse geniuses and cultivators.

Such a vast sample of cultivators and cultivation practice nearly eliminates every problem and hidden danger encountered during transmission.

Then, the sect's ancestral masters and great experts study and resolve them one by one.

Thus, disciples cultivate along a smooth path, never stumbling into eternal regret.

If one walks a rare cultivation path, with few learners, little experience, and no one to guide them, the road ahead is shrouded in mist.

A moment's inattention may lead to stepping into a pit, wasting extra time.

Step into two pits, and you waste twice the time.

Step into several pits, and you may be trapped for life, wasting your entire existence.

Sometimes, the chosen cultivation path may seem brilliant at first.

Then the next step halts abruptly—encountering a dead end with no Dao left to follow, no path left to tread.

But Mo Hua's situation is even more extreme,

he walks the path of Spirit Consciousness attaining Dao—and specifically, a rare form of Spirit Consciousness attaining Dao,

with almost no precedents to reference or draw from.

His path ahead is almost entirely shrouded in fog; within that fog, no one knows where the thorns lie or where the dead ends wait.

He must explore it alone.

And now, in his very first exploration, he has stumbled into a massive pit.

If this pit cannot be filled, forget forming a Golden Core—he may lose his life.

"Bone-carved arrays, blood qi leakage, loss of life force—"

Mo Hua was troubled and had no time to think deeply when he suddenly sensed a shift in the dark energy; he looked down and saw the Iron Art Bone's blood qi draining, its life force seeping out, its forehead gray and lifeless—it was clearly dying.

Mo Hua's heart gave a slight jolt.

This Iron Art Bone cannot die yet.

He still has use for it.

Moreover, if it dies, he will bear the "Life Curse."

Mo Hua shoved a handful of pills into the Iron Art Bone's mouth, prodding them down with a stick.

Then he sprinkled medicinal powder on its arms and legs to stop the bleeding, and scattered "Bone-Growing Powder" to heal its bones.

After a while, the Iron Art Bone's life was indeed stabilized.

The Iron Art Bone slowly drew a breath, opened its eyes, and looked at Mo Hua before it—as if staring at a "demon."