Chapter 1207

The desire for power is rooted in the human heart, incurable.

Class hierarchy may be human nature itself,

All people, given any opportunity, will climb upward to seize more Dao resources, gain greater strength, control larger power, to enslave and oppress others, to tower above them, thereby gaining the satisfaction and pleasure of class superiority.

Here in the Wilds, this is especially evident.

Mo Hua's eyes grew deep, lost in thought.

"Mr.," Dan Zhu noticed Mo Hua's unusual expression and asked, "Shall I dispatch troops to conquer this small mountain territory?"

Mo Hua fell silent for a moment, then shook his head:

"No need. This land was once the Master's preaching ground—only some have defied the Master's 'instructions.'"

Chifeng and the others exchanged glances.

Mo Hua ordered: "Wait here. I will go see the situation."

Dan Zhu thought for a moment, then nodded. "Very well, Mr."

Dan Zhu and his five or six hundred men made camp in a nearby small valley.

Mo Hua alone entered the Wusha Mountain Territory.

After entering the territory, Mo Hua activated his concealment technique, his form turning invisible as he walked across the Wilds.

Though there was no famine, the people's livelihood was withered; everything he saw contradicted his wishes.

Wusha had not heeded his instructions.

His efforts to cultivate the human heart had also ended in failure.

The human heart is perilous; the Dao heart is subtle.

Even when persuaded, the human heart may appear "kind" for a time—but the moment it grows lax, it returns to luxury, pleasure, oppression, and exploitation, inching step by step toward ruin.

"All evil originates in the human heart."

"And the evil thoughts of the human heart will hatch—"

A demon god.

In an instant, Mo Hua suddenly understood something.

After a moment of contemplation, he did not seek out Wusha; instead, he passed through the Wusha Mountain Territory and arrived at the Wutu Mountain Territory, first finding the Wutu tribe.

Mo Hua did not care whether Wusha lived or died.

He cared only for the children he had taught.

He wondered whether those children had been affected, and what they were like now.

Mo Hua, invisible, entered the Wutu tribe's gate; the arrays surrounding it were his own, so they naturally could not stop him.

Inside the tribe, all was as usual—the atmosphere was still harmonious, everyone had clothing and food, and some houses and tents had been built more solidly.

This showed that at least Elder Zhamu of the Wutu tribe was still diligently obeying his orders.

Mo Hua felt a slight easing in his heart.

A brief sweep of his spiritual sense revealed a group gathered in the great hall.

Mo Hua's gaze shifted slightly; he invisibly entered the Wutu tribe's great hall and saw it was spacious, sparsely furnished, and now filled with many people,

arguing incessantly, as if they had been debating for a long time, the atmosphere tense.

At the highest seat, a chair sat empty.

It was the seat Mo Hua had often occupied.

When he had presided over the Wutu tribe, he had sat there, as Lord Wuzhu, directing affairs, issuing commands, unifying Wutu,

Wusha, and the surrounding several second-rank mountain territories, continuously improving livelihoods and spreading the Master's glory.

Since he, the Lord Wuzhu, was gone, no one dared touch his seat.

Mo Hua passed through the crowd, unseen and unheard, returned to his seat, and sat down calmly, propping his arm, looking down from above as the others continued their quarrel.

The arguing crowd did not sense the arrival of their "Lord Wuzhu," still bickering back and forth.

Only Xiao Zhatu, behind Elder Zhamu, seemed to sense something, glancing up at the seat.

But the seat was empty—his Mr. had not appeared.

Xiao Zhatu's expression grew slightly disappointed, then he recalled his Mr.'s teachings; his emotions gradually calmed, and his gaze hardened with resolve.

At that moment, the previously tense atmosphere suddenly turned hostile.

Elder Zhamu of the Wutu tribe was speaking to a barbarian general of the Heijiao tribe:

"Absolutely not!"

"These barbarian armors were forged by Elder Jiao under the Lord Wuzhu's orders—without the Lord Wuzhu's approval, they cannot be handed over to anyone." The Heijiao general's face was cold. "I have been ordered by Lord Elder Jiao Li to retrieve these armors—"

"Now that Lord Elder Jiao Li and Wusha are at odds, without sufficient barbarian armors, we cannot ensure the safety of the Wutu tribe—or even the entire Wutu Mountain Territory—against Wusha's aggression."

His words carried an implicit threat. Elder Zhamu, hearing this, roared:

"Does Wusha dare attack our Wutu tribe? Our Wutu tribe is the very first tribe the Lord Wuzhu descended upon! The Lord Wuzhu even named this mountain territory 'Wutu'! How dare Wusha attack our tribe? Does he wish to betray the Lord Wuzhu?"

The Heijiao general said: "Precisely because the Lord Wuzhu has deep ties with your Wutu tribe, Wusha has been restrained out of respect for the Lord Wuzhu. Otherwise, he would have seized the Wutu Mountain Territory long ago."

"But—" the Heijiao general's gaze turned icy—"the Lord Wuzhu has been gone for over a year, with no word at all, unknown where he has gone, or whether he will ever return. Wusha has long been plotting."

"If not for Lord Elder Jiao Li, who remembers the Lord Wuzhu's grace and follows his orders, constantly sending troops to protect your Wutu tribe, Wusha would have struck you down long ago."

"Lord Elder Jiao Li has exhausted himself protecting your Wutu tribe—no merit, but plenty of hardship. Now he merely asks for a few sets of barbarian armors, and you still hesitate?"

Elder Zhamu said sternly, "In the end, isn't Elder Jiao Li just trying to seize these armors? What difference is there between him and Wusha?"

The Heijiao general frowned. "How can Wusha be compared to Lord Elder Jiao Li?"

Elder Zhamu sneered.

The Heijiao general sighed. "Wusha, after all, possesses barbarian armors personally bestowed by the Lord Wuzhu—armors inscribed with the Lord Wuzhu's own sacred runes, a 'blessing' from the Lord Wuzhu."

"No matter how strong Lord Elder Jiao Li is, he cannot defeat Wusha, who has received the Lord Wuzhu's 'blessing.'"

So—

The black-horn tribe's barbarian general further said:

"I've come here to ask Elder Zhamu for the newly forged barbarian armor. With the armor, Lord Jiao Li will be like a tiger gaining wings, able to stand against Wu Sha,

and able to safeguard the entire Wu Tu tribe."

Elder Zhamu clearly did not believe him; he merely brushed it off:

"The barbarian armor? You can go ask Elder Jiao Hu for it. After all, your Lord Jiao Li is Elder Jiao Hu's son."

The black-horn tribe's barbarian general's face darkened: "Lord Jiao Li is now chief of the black-horn tribe and has no relation whatsoever to Elder Jiao Hu. I beg Elder Zhamu to watch his words."

Elder Zhamu merely sneered.

Now that he's achieved fame and success, he's ashamed of being a bastard and wants to wash his hands of it.

But he didn't voice this, lest he provoke the black-horn tribe's barbarian general.

"Fine, you say there's no relation? Then there's none—" Elder Zhamu sneered, "but it's Elder Jiao Hu of your black-horn tribe who is the armor-casting elder. Why come to my Wu Tu tribe for barbarian armor if not to him?"

The black-horn tribe's barbarian general said coldly: "Elder Jiao Hu has secretly stored all the barbarian armor he forged in the Wu Tu tribe."

Elder Zhamu shook his head. "Nonsense."

The black-horn tribe's barbarian general said calmly: "Then let's search."

Elder Zhamu's eyes blazed with fury as he roared: "Audacious! This is the sacred ground where Lord Wuzhu prays to the gods—how dare you search here?"

The elders of other minor tribes also erupted in righteous anger, condemning the black-horn tribe for ingratitude and daring to offend Lord Wuzhu.

The black-horn tribe's barbarian general hesitated for a moment.

Lord Wuzhu had vanished for a year, but his lingering authority still held sway; the people's wrath could not be trifled with.

Yet Lord Jiao Li's orders could not be disobeyed.

Amid the commotion, another group burst in.

Elder Zhamu looked up and turned pale.

The newcomer wore blood-red barbarian armor, his cultivation at the peak of Foundation Establishment—he was a trusted general of Wu Sha, chief of the Wu Lu tribe.

This red-armored general stormed in, ferocious as a demon, and upon seeing the black-horn tribe's barbarian general, grinned broadly.

"So, you black-horn tribe is also coveting Lord Wuzhu's legacy?"

The black-horn tribe's barbarian general's face darkened: "Are you trying to steal our barbarian armor?"

The red-armored general sneered, patting the deep crimson armor on his body, scarred and pitted yet brimming with killing intent: "My Wu Lu tribe's armor was personally bestowed by Lord Wuzhu. How could your newly forged armor possibly compare?"

"I'm here today for people."

"People?" The black-horn tribe's barbarian general frowned.

The Wu Lu general turned to Elder Zhamu and said:

"Lord Wu Sha has ordered that all of Lord Wuzhu's 'students' be 'invited' to the Wu Lu tribe—Lord Wu Sha will give them proper use."

Elder Zhamu's fury surged.

Jiao Li wanted to seize armor; this Wu Sha wanted to seize people.

Armor lost could be reforged.

But these children, meticulously nurtured by Lord Wuzhu, were the tribe's most precious treasure. If they fell into Wu Sha's hands, it would sever the root of the lineage.

This Wu Sha scoundrel had planned this shameless scheme all along!

Elder Zhamu roared: "Wu Sha can dream!"

The Wu Lu general's face turned icy.

Elder Zhamu pointed at his nose and cursed: "Do you not fear provoking Lord Wuzhu?"

The Wu Lu general sneered: "I act solely on Lord Wu Sha's orders."

"Then why doesn't this bastard Wu Sha come himself?" Elder Zhamu roared. "Is he afraid that one day Lord Wuzhu will descend divine punishment upon him?"

Hearing this, the Wu Lu general's heart flickered.

But then he coldly said: "Lord Wu Sha's actions follow Lord Wuzhu's own will. These children are Lord Wuzhu's 'disciples'—they deserve better treatment, greater respect, and should contribute to the tribe's advancement."

Elder Zhamu's face remained stubborn and cold.

The Wu Lu general forced patience: "Your Wu Tu tribe is too weak to protect these children."

"If anything happens to Lord Wuzhu's disciples, who will bear the responsibility?"

"So hand over these children—those personally taught by Lord Wuzhu. I'll take them back to Wu Lu and entrust them to Lord Wu Sha, who will protect them personally."

Elder Zhamu refused to budge.

The Wu Lu general lost patience, his face twisting into a snarl, his eyes darting toward Xiao Zatu, who had once followed Lord Wuzhu.

Xiao Zatu turned pale and instinctively clutched his grandfather's sleeve.

Elder Zhamu stepped in front of Xiao Zatu and shook his head, voice heavy:

"These children are Lord Wuzhu's students—they are the hope of Wu Tu Mountain. I will not hand them over. If you wish to take them, you must step over my corpse."

The Wu Lu general nodded, sneering:

"You, a Foundation Establishment beginner, an old man half-buried in the grave—what foolish words are these? What can one decrepit bone possibly stop? Had it not been for Lord Wuzhu's name, I could crush you with one hand."

"Fine—you refuse to hand them over? Then I'll take them myself."

The Wu Lu general, his body radiating bloodlust, strode purposefully toward the back of the hall.

He could sense, somewhere behind the hall, a cluster of tender, youthful energies.

Elder Zhamu roared: "How dare you?!"

The Wu Tu tribe, along with several elders and Foundation Establishment barbarian generals closely allied with them, rushed forward to block him.

But their cultivation was far inferior to the Wu Lu general's peak Foundation Establishment.

Within a few exchanges, they were all defeated.

The Black Horn tribe's barbarian general hesitated for a moment, then flashed forward, blocking the path of the Wu Lu tribe's barbarian general.

This hall, once used by Lord Wuzhu for council meetings, was a place neither Jiao Li, the tribe's chieftain, nor Wu Sha dared to enter.

Thus, these two barbarian generals became the "representatives."

And this was not their first meeting—they had clashed repeatedly during prior conflicts between the two tribes, making them "acquaintances."

The Wu Lu tribe's barbarian general said: "Why are you blocking me? You take your armor, I take my people—no interference."

The Black Horn tribe's barbarian general's eyes flashed. "The armor is mine, but the people are not yours."

The Wu Lu tribe's barbarian general sneered. "Your Black Horn tribe has long been insincere toward Lord Wuzhu—you're no good either."

"You seek death!"

"You're the one seeking death."

Mo Hua had established a rule: no weapons allowed inside Lord Wuzhu's hall.

Thus, the two barbarian generals fought barehanded, their qi surging, fists striking flesh with brutal force.

After hundreds of rounds, the Black Horn tribe's barbarian general, merely at the late Foundation Establishment stage, was ultimately weaker—he was struck in the eye by a punch from the Wu Lu tribe's barbarian general, his stance destabilized, leaving an opening; before he could react, another kick slammed into his chest.

The Black Horn tribe's barbarian general reeled back ten steps, spitting out a mouthful of blood.

The Wu Lu tribe's barbarian general snorted coldly. "Overestimating yourself."

Then he turned and walked forward again, but after only a few steps, he saw Elder Zhamu, old and gnarled as a withered tree, standing before him, his gaze hard as ironstone:

"If you want to take the boy, step over my corpse."

The Wu Lu tribe's barbarian general's face darkened. "Old fool, do you truly think I won't kill you?"

He raised his hand—

When a childish voice called out:

Little Zhatu spread his arms, shielding his grandfather, summoned all his courage, and glared at the Foundation Establishment peak Wulu Tribe barbarian general:

Xiao Zatu spread his arms, shielding his grandfather, summoning all his courage to glare at the Foundation Establishment peak Wu Lu tribe barbarian general:

"How dare you be so audacious? Aren't you afraid of Lord Wuzhu's punishment?"

The Wu Lu tribe's barbarian general sneered. "Little brat, full of big talk—you're just a child, daring to speak of Lord Wuzhu—"

Then he suddenly paused. This child, "Zatu," was Elder Zhamu's only grandson—and once, the closest person to Lord Wuzhu.

If he seized this boy, Elder Zhamu would have no choice but to submit.

Moreover, this child might be the student who received the most direct transmission from Lord Wuzhu.

The Wu Lu tribe's barbarian general immediately extended his massive, palm-like hand toward Xiao Zatu.

His cultivation was too high, his strength too great, his speed too swift—Elder Zhamu could only watch helplessly, unable to react in time.

Xiao Zatu's face turned pale, his heart freezing—he had only Qi Condensation cultivation, with no way to evade, so he tightly shut his eyes in terror.

But the next moment, nothing happened.

Xiao Zatu's heart jolted—he slowly opened his eyes—and saw the Wu Lu tribe's barbarian general, who had just been sneering, now deathly pale.

His body also trembled uncontrollably, until at last his legs gave way and he dropped to his knees on the ground, kowtowing again and again toward the high place.

His body trembled uncontrollably, until his legs buckled and he collapsed to his knees, bowing his head repeatedly toward the heights.

Xiao Zatu, bewildered, suddenly realized—he turned sharply—and saw, upon the empty high seat moments before, now standing a familiar, revered figure.

Xiao Zatu's eyes widened, as if finding his ultimate faith, tears spilling from his corners:

At these words, the crowd finally turned their heads one after another to look, and saw that on the trembling high seat, the "Lord Wuzhu," who had been gone for over a day, had somehow, without anyone noticing, suddenly descended and now sat composed upon Gao Wei, his gaze unfathomably deep as he silently watched the crowd.

At these words, everyone turned to look—and saw, upon the high seat, the "Lord Wuzhu" who had vanished over a year ago, had suddenly appeared, seated imperceptibly, his gaze profound and unreadable, silently observing them all.

As if he had just returned.

Or—as if he had never left, always there.

Shock filled every chest; those in the hall all knelt, chanting devoutly:

"Lord Wuzhu has returned!"

"We pay homage to Lord Wuzhu!"

"We welcome Lord Wuzhu!"

Most present felt awe and overwhelming joy.

Only the two barbarian generals from the Black Horn and Wu Lu tribes knelt, their bodies icy cold.

They were the ones who had acted most shamefully, and now felt the deepest terror.

Knowing Lord Wuzhu had been seated above them the entire time, watching their selfishness, pettiness, and offenses with perfect clarity, their faces were utterly bloodless.

No one knew the immense pressure their spiritual senses endured, the sheer horror they faced.

Yet for a long time, Lord Wuzhu said nothing.

Like a severed blade hanging above them, lingering without falling, leaving them in agonizing torment.

After what felt like an eternity, Mo Hua spoke softly: "The two of you return and bring Jiao Li and Wu Sha here."

The two barbarian generals from the Black Horn and Wu Lu tribes froze at these words.

Was Lord Wuzhu sparing them?

Or was he waiting to see their respective chieftains, then punish them all together, settling accounts?

Their hearts bore the weight of a thousand-pound boulder, yet they had no choice—they bowed and said: "Yes, Lord Wuzhu."

Then the two tall, muscular barbarian generals bowed low, retreating with utmost reverence.

After they left, Elder Zhamu spoke: "Lord Wuzhu—"

Mo Hua nodded slightly. "I know."

Hearing this, Elder Zhamu felt profound reverence.

Lord Wuzhu's divine power rivals the gods—truly, he knows all, sees all.

【181】 All matters rest with Lord Wuzhu's judgment.

Elder Zhamu no longer spoke further.

Mo Hua looked at Xiao Zhamu and saw that the boy had grown taller, his expression more resolute, yet his eyes still held the same adoration for him; Mo Hua could not help but smile gently, "Take me to see the other children."

Xiao Zhamu nodded eagerly: "Yes, Mr.!"

Xiao Zhamu led Mo Hua through a hidden passage behind the hall; after walking a short while, they entered a large cave, recently excavated, crude but very concealed.

The cave was simple, but the qi was good.

Many children were inside Shi Dian, some reading books, others drawing array patterns.

Though turmoil raged outside, these children seemed hardly affected.

Xiao Zhamu said, "Before, when things were unstable, Grandfather had all the disciples live in this large cave."

"I have also, as Mr. instructed, practiced daily, studied array techniques, and urged them to study diligently, never forgetting Mr.'s teachings."

As he spoke, Xiao Zhamu wore a look of pride.

Seeing all this before him, Mo Hua slowly exhaled, unable to resist gently stroking Xiao Zhamu's head.

Indeed, education must begin early with young children.

Some people, once grown, are already ruined; no matter how much you teach, it's useless.