Chapter 1188: One Sword

Facing peril to fulfill one's duty, sacrificing body and life, eradicating evil and corruption, heart turned toward the divine.

If not a Lord Wuzhu, then what could it be?

At this moment, the Jin Dan elders of the Dan Que tribe, the Jin Dan barbarian generals, and even the hundred elite barbarian soldiers present all felt the same thought:

This Mr. Wu might truly be a Lord Wuzhu; otherwise, he could never possess such boundless courage and devout self-sacrifice!

Dan Zhu cared less about the title of "Lord Wuzhu" and genuinely worried for Mo Hua's safety.

The Shi Dian before them was a "terrible place" where even Jin Dan cultivators vanished without return, dying gruesome deaths, their flesh and blood reduced to nothing.

Dan Zhu whispered, "Mr. Wu, you need not risk your life."

Mo Hua shook his head. "My decision is final."

Dan Zhu wished to urge him again.

But Mo Hua, with a face of compassion, said: "The people of the Dan Que tribe are trapped within this Shi Dian. The Divine Lord, in mercy, has commanded me to save them. This is the Divine Lord's will—and my mission."

Dan Zhu was deeply moved.

The other Dan Que elders and barbarian soldiers were also profoundly awed by Mo Hua's compassion and grandeur.

"But your cultivation is only Foundation Establishment," Dan Zhu still fretted.

Mo Hua replied slowly:

"I told you—I am the Divine Lord's Lord Wuzhu. All my great power comes from the Divine Lord's grace."

"As long as faith is sincere, one gains heavenly power; whether one is Foundation Establishment or Jin Dan makes little difference."

Mo Hua's demeanor was solemn.

Dan Zhu nodded, somewhat enlightened.

Even the seasoned, ruthless barbarian general Chifeng, in this moment, felt that Mo Hua's words might be true.

Dan Zhu said solemnly: "Mr. Wu, be careful."

Mo Hua nodded, then pointed to Tie Shu Gu beside him. "This man comes with me."

Tie Shu Gu turned pale with terror. "I'm useless! My limbs are broken! I can't go! I can't!"

Mo Hua said calmly: "If you don't come, I'll kill you now."

Tie Shu Gu knew Mo Hua's "cruelty" well—and knew he could easily have him killed.

The pain in his broken bones still throbbed faintly—every wound was Mo Hua's "masterpiece." Tie Shu Gu hated and feared him, and could only say:

"I'll go with you, but as you see, my limbs are broken—"

Mo Hua said: "Just rejoin the bones. Use a walking stick."

With will, no difficulty is insurmountable.

Tie Shu Gu had no reply.

Two Dan Que barbarian soldiers stepped forward, hastily realigned Tie Shu Gu's bones, applied herbal poultice, and wrapped him in bandages.

Tie Shu Gu leaned on a wooden staff and could barely walk.

After all, he was Jin Dan—his cultivation foundation remained.

Once prepared, Mo Hua stepped slowly, one step at a time, toward the "malevolent" Shi Dian.

The Dan Que tribe had no idea how thrilled Mo Hua truly felt inside.

They only saw him as selfless, his silhouette filled with tragic grandeur; though short, he now appeared towering and majestic.

Even the Bi Fang tribe members were momentarily stunned by Mo Hua's audacity and dared not block his path.

Bi Jie's gaze toward Mo Hua held a touch of solemn disbelief.

Thus, under the "farewell gaze" of all, Mo Hua entered the Shi Dian of the Shu Gu tribe, stepped into this realm where Jin Dan perished, and entered the unfathomable darkness.

One step, one limp—reluctant Tie Shu Gu followed behind Mo Hua, entering the Shu Gu Shi Dian with him.

Then darkness swallowed their figures.

All vanished. Not a sound remained.

Inside the Shi Dian gate carved with bone-beast idols, thick waves of malevolent desire surged, devouring everything.

The barbarians outside could only watch helplessly.

Upon first entering the Shi Dian, the surroundings were dim.

Mo Hua's eyes glowed bright, piercing the darkness, revealing every detail within the hall.

The Shi Dian was vast, but to Mo Hua's surprise, it was not deep—no long corridors, no intricate depths.

Almost at a glance, one could see past the corridor to the main hall.

And beneath the hall, a colossal ox-horned barbarian deity statue.

This was the barbarian deity worshipped by the Shu Gu tribe.

At this moment, the statue's ox-head glowered in rage, its eyes wide open, radiating a furious, sinister aura that sent chills down the spine.

The air was thick with a scent like sulfur—a divine presence.

Mo Hua tilted his head, staring straight at the deity statue, expression thoughtful.

Beside him, Tie Shu Gu, since entering the Shi Dian, had kept his head bowed, dared not look anywhere, and had collapsed onto his knees, trembling violently.

Mo Hua sighed softly: "Stop kneeling."

Tie Shu Gu dared to lift his head, glancing fearfully around—until he saw Mo Hua, a mere Foundation Establishment cultivator, standing tall and upright, while he, a Jin Dan cultivator, cowered on the ground. He realized this was improper.

A flicker of Jin Dan pride stirred in his heart, and he trembled as he rose to his feet.

Mo Hua said: "Come."

Then Mo Hua stepped onto the stone stairs before him, walking into the circular stone path leading to the deity statue.

Tie Shu Gu hesitated a moment, then gritted his teeth and followed.

As they walked along the stone path, Mo Hua saw the scattered, skeletal remains of Bi Fang tribe cultivators along the way.

Through the traces, Mo Hua could roughly deduce that these Bi Fang tribe cultivators had fallen into some kind of delusion and madness the moment they entered Shi Dian, beginning to "kill" each other and eventually devouring flesh until death.

As for what kind of delusion it was, Mo Hua took a few more steps forward and discovered a Bi Fang tribe barbarian soldier whose skull was intact, his face undamaged.

"Hungry—

Mo Hua's expression shifted slightly. "Related to the famine in the Wilds?"

He took a few more steps forward and found over twenty Bi Fang tribe barbarians, all without exception, dead along the path, dead from extreme "hunger," their mouths caked with flesh, the ground a bloody mess.

And their own bodies were also gnawed through with countless holes.

This was indeed the work of a demonic deity.

Suddenly, a retching sound came from behind.

Mo Hua turned his head and saw Tie Shuguo clutching his mouth, his face twisted with nausea.

Mo Hua was speechless. "Didn't you eat it too? What are you playing at, pretending to be pure?"

In fact, this "custom" was first spread by his own Shuguo tribe.

Tie Shuguo didn't know how to respond.

When he ate himself, he had fallen into some kind of madness, thinking the flesh delicious, feeling nothing at all—but now, watching others eat, for some reason, he felt utterly repulsed, ready to vomit.

Mo Hua asked Tie Shuguo again: "Have you been here before?"

Tie Shuguo muttered: "I—haven't—

But Mo Hua didn't need his answer; he could already judge what he wanted to know just by looking at Tie Shuguo's eyes and the fluctuations of his spiritual sense.

Mo Hua nodded. "You've been here."

Tie Shuguo's heart prickled with unease.

Mo Hua didn't press him. "Lead the way ahead."

Tie Shuguo hesitated for a moment, casting a sly glance at Mo Hua.

There were no other Dan Que tribe guards nearby; Mo Hua was merely Foundation Establishment, while he himself was a full Jin Dan—yet Tie Shuguo could not summon even a single thought of rebellion.

It was as if Mo Hua were the Jin Dan, and he himself the Foundation Establishment.

"Yes." Tie Shuguo obediently walked ahead.

But Shi Dian's structure was simple, the path uncomplex, and there was nothing truly needing guidance.

In the time it took to burn a stick of incense, Tie Shuguo led Mo Hua to the center of the great hall, beneath the white-bone barbarian deity statue.

Beneath the barbarian deity statue was a vast hall.

Inside stood an altar and guardian beast statues.

Before the altar now knelt a man—a tall, thin figure, half his body covered in white bone scales, already dead on the ground.

Judging by his attire and build, he was the other Bi Fang tribe Jin Dan, Elder Zhuo.

Jin Dan cultivators possessed stronger spiritual senses and slightly greater resistance to "demonic thoughts."

These two Jin Dan elders had held out until they reached the barbarian deity statue, only then being fully corrupted by the demonic thoughts, consumed by "hunger," killing and devouring each other.

Elder Zhuo died before the barbarian deity statue.

Elder Cang had barely clung to life, escaped, and warned his young master—still, he was loyal.

Mo Hua was surveying the surroundings when suddenly he heard a heavy, labored breath. He turned and saw Tie Shuguo's expression blank, his eyes slightly red, saliva dripping from his lips, as if an insatiable hunger were spreading through his mind, his reason teetering on collapse.

"Tie Shuguo!" Mo Hua's expression remained calm as he spoke sharply.

That sharp cry, though quiet, struck like thunder beside Tie Shuguo's ears.

Tie Shuguo's spirit jolted, his clarity returning slightly, the inexplicable hunger in his heart receding considerably.

The Bi Fang tribe group were, for now, "normal," untouched by demonic thoughts, like blank paper—with almost no resistance.

Almost as soon as they entered the hall, they were possessed. Once possessed, they began devouring each other.

But Tie Shuguo himself was already "dirty."

Conversely, his resistance to demonic thoughts was somewhat higher.

But even higher, it was still limited—he would likely succumb to madness soon, just like Elder Cang and Elder Zhuo, consumed by the urge to "eat" people.

So time was urgent.

Mo Hua instructed Tie Shuguo: "Light a bonfire, perform the ritual, and summon the barbarian deity."

Tie Shuguo said: "I don't know how."

Mo Hua looked at him with eyes as sharp as a treasure sword.

Tie Shuguo lowered his head, pulled out flint, stacked dry, withered wood, and lit the bonfire—his movements were highly practiced.

When the bonfire was lit, flames roared fiercely.

Tie Shuguo turned back to look at Mo Hua. "Do I need to eat 'something'?"

As he spoke, he unconsciously swallowed. According to the ritual, this was the moment he was supposed to eat a person.

Mo Hua shook his head. "No need. The Bi Fang tribe people have already eaten for you."

The lingering bloodstains in the air remained.

The frenzied mental imprints of two Bi Fang Jin Dan and over twenty Foundation Establishment cultivators devouring each other had not yet faded.

Tie Shuguo felt disappointed.

Mo Hua said: "You may dance now."

"Dance?" Tie Shuguo froze, glancing at his own limbs—once broken, now barely reattached. "Now? Me? Dance?"

Mo Hua nodded. "Dance. Dance the same dance you performed that night in the small grove during your sacrifice."

Tie Shuguo struggled. "I—I broke my arms and legs. I can't dance well—"

Mo Hua's face turned cold. "Figure it out yourself."

Tie Shuguo felt this vicious little white-faced brat was truly a master at tormenting people.

How could anyone expect someone with broken arms and legs to dance?

"You don't have to dance," Mo Hua kindly warned, "but don't say I didn't tell you—this hall is steeped in evil thoughts. Stay too long, and you'll die sooner or later. In fact, the longer you dance each night, the higher your chance of death—"

Tie Shugu secretly cursed, but finally said, "I'll dance!"

He began limping with his cane, performing the dance of "pleasing" the Barbarian God according to Shugu tribal custom.

But his cane was awkward, his arm was broken, his leg still crippled, and the atmosphere was wrong—so naturally, his dancing was lopsided and clumsy.

Mo Hua watched silently from the side.

Bonfire. "Devouring" people. Dancing.

All three elements were present; logically, the sacrifice should have succeeded.

The only problem was that Tie Shugu's dance was terrible.

But there was no choice—only he knew how to perform this dance.

Tie Shugu kept stumbling, tripping, and took twice as long as usual to adapt to his searingly painful limbs and slip into a faint state of madness.

As Tie Shugu danced, following some peculiar rhythm, the atmosphere inside the hall began to change.

Blood mist seeped from the statue of the Bone Barbarian God.

Blood streamed down the face of the Barbarian God.

The aura of evil grew ever stronger.

Yet Mo Hua's gaze grew ever brighter.

Finally, as a deep, terrifying voice rang out, a wave of blood mist suddenly descended, enveloping the altar from above.

Ordinary cultivators should not be able to see this demonic blood mist.

But Tie Shugu saw it.

Tie Shugu, who had just been dancing, instantly turned pale with terror and cried:

"True God—Is this the True God?! Has the Barbarian God's true form descended?!"

"Blood mist descends, to pay homage to the True God, to shed the mortal shell, to serve the Divine Dao forever—"

"I'm going to die— I'm going to die—"

Tie Shugu's face twisted in horror, turned, and tried to flee—but his legs were crippled, so he could only hobble away with his cane.

He hadn't gone far when a black demonic fireball flew toward him and smashed his cane to pieces.

Tie Shugu fell to the ground, agony exploding through his broken limbs. He looked up at Mo Hua, who had blasted him with the fireball, his heart choked with rage and panic:

"You—"

But before he could finish, the blood mist of evil thoughts engulfed him.

Tie Shugu's consciousness slowly dimmed, then he collapsed onto the ground, slipping into unconsciousness.

Mo Hua stood where he was, calm and composed, quietly waiting for the demonic blood mist to swallow him whole.

Outside the Shi Dian.

Everyone felt an inexplicable heart-pounding dread—as if something terrifying within the Shi Dian was awakening.

Yet they saw nothing, heard nothing; even their divine senses detected no anomaly. Only their hearts grew heavy, as if watched by some mighty, brutal presence.

The Bi Fang tribe was filled with panic; their young master, Bi Jie, wore a solemn expression.

Among the Dan Que tribe, Chifeng and several Jin Dan cultivators exchanged glances, their brows tightly furrowed.

Dan Zhu, worried for Mo Hua's safety, felt dread.

But they had no idea what lay inside the Shi Dian, and dared not disobey Mo Hua's orders as the Lord Wuzhu by entering recklessly.

Inside the Shi Dian.

After a dizzying whirl—

Tie Shugu opened his eyes, looked down, and found his broken arm and leg perfectly restored.

But inside him, not a trace of joy stirred.

He knew, deep down, he was no longer "alive" in this world.

He had entered the domain of the "Barbarian God."

Tie Shugu's heart was filled with despair.

He had known—he should never, never have associated with that wicked little pretty boy.

Now, through sheer carelessness, he had fallen into a sacred realm, exclusive to gods.

In Shugu tribal legend, beholding the True Form of a god was the greatest blessing.

But it also meant his soul could never return to the mortal realm—his physical Dao had already perished.

According to Shugu tribal records, no one except the founding ancestors had ever returned alive to the mortal world after seeing the Barbarian God.

And this sixteen-character warning—"Blood mist descends, to pay homage to the True God, to shed the mortal shell, to serve the Divine Dao forever"—was left by the ancient Shugu ancestors, to warn descendants: revere the gods, but never see them.

Now, all of it had come true—

Tie Shugu's heart turned to dead ice.

Just then, a deep, terrifying voice spoke: "Why do you not kneel?"

Barbarian God!

Tie Shugu immediately fell to his knees, banging his head against the ground.

But after a moment, he realized—this voice was not meant for him.

Tie Shugu stole a glance sideways—and froze.

Beside him stood a child?

Eyebrows and eyes like painted brushwork, face like Bai Yu, as if carved from powdered jade—adorable beyond words.

But… where did this child come from?

Tie Shugu found it strange, and carefully examined the child's face. After a moment, he was suddenly shocked:

That vicious pretty-boy?!

"How did he turn into a little child?!"

"What on earth is going on with his divine soul?"

Tie Shugu was inwardly stunned, and then heard the child, in a slightly disappointed and extremely rude tone, say to the Barbaric God:

"How come you've only half-fallen?"

Tie Shugu felt terror to the extreme, a chill rising in his heart, piercing to the bone.

What is this brat saying?!

How could he address the Barbaric God, my lord, as "you"?

How could he say the Barbaric God, my lord, had "fallen"?

And only half-fallen at that?

From the sound of it, having fallen only halfway, he's still not happy? Does he still expect the Barbaric God, my lord, to have "fully fallen"?

Tie Shugu was utterly terrified.

How can a "person" be so ignorant, how can they be this arrogant?

Sure enough, the Barbaric God, my lord, was enraged.

Tie Shugu could feel it.

As a "believer" of the Barbaric God of Bonecraft, he could feel that the Barbaric God, my lord's wrath was like a violent wind of blood and rain, a stench of wind in the dark night—a terrifying calamity.

"This kid is really asking for it—"

"When he dies, please, please, please don't drag me into it—"

"I don't know him—"

Tie Shugu pressed his forehead against the steps of Shi Dian, terrified in his heart, not daring to move a muscle.

Sure enough, with a roar, the Barbaric God's wrath, like black clouds covering the sky, a storm of blood sweeping in, filled the entire great hall.

A thunderous crash rang out.

Tie Shugu's bones were all trembling.

But this storm-like fury congealed for a long time, yet, as if someone had frozen time, it never descended.

Tie Shugu's face twitched. After a long while, he finally mustered his courage, secretly opened his eyes, and glanced forward.

Then, he saw a massive, struggling skull of a hundred bones.

This skull had been forcibly sliced off, fallen to the ground, its eye sockets filled with terror.

And atop this skull stood a little child.

This child was like a golden boy of jade quality, feet treading on the white-bone skull, a golden sword in his hand.

From the tip of the Jin Se sword, the black blood of a deity dripped down drop by drop..

This scene was utterly terrifying.

Tie Shugu's heart stopped on the spot.

Like a world-shattering, earth-splitting tsunami, it swept through his heart, crushing every bit of understanding he had built up over three hundred years of life.