Chapter 1208: A Wucha

Mo Hua returned, and the students were all very happy, crowding forward to bow and saying:

"Good day, Mr."

Their faces had lost the savagery of wilderness cultivators and gained a touch of gentleness; their eyes were livelier, and their spirits were full.

The disputes outside had been blocked by Elder Zhamu and had not affected these children.

Mo Hua also checked on their lessons.

Cultivation, array formations, rudimentary pill techniques, and the theory of artifact refining—Mo Hua had taught all of these.

Each child had different talent and different interests, so their progress in each subject varied; the clever ones learned faster, the slower ones learned very slowly.

But Mo Hua could tell that these children had all studied diligently; even the slower ones had not wasted their time, and were steadily improving.

This was not only related to the innate resilience that came from being born into poverty, but also benefited from the urging of little Zhatu, this "little drill instructor."

Mo Hua praised little Zhatu a few times.

Having received Mr.'s praise, little Zhatu was so excited his face turned red.

After this, Mo Hua gave the children some more guidance on their cultivation and lessons, and then Elder Zhamu came over and said:

"Lord Wuzhu, Jiao Li has arrived."

Mo Hua nodded, then left the cave dwelling and returned to the great hall, where he indeed saw Jiao Li standing inside.

He was tall and large, his face grim and murderous, with a trace of ambition and unwillingness between his brows.

And after long experience of battle arrays and occupying a high position, he also possessed an extraordinary bearing, and even more of an arrogance that refused to be controlled by others.

And the one controlling him was precisely this Lord Wuzhu, Mo Hua.

Jiao Li had even vaguely entertained the thought of killing him, thinking that since Lord Wuzhu was, after all, only at Foundation Establishment cultivation, if he risked a fight, he might be able to remove the "tightening hoop" over his head and do as he pleased from then on.

But after seeing with his own eyes Mo Hua's not-very-tall figure, familiar face, and eyes that reached straight into the heart, the "rebelliousness" in Jiao Li's heart ultimately turned into deep awe.

He clenched his teeth, suppressing the arrogance of a chieftain, and slowly knelt down. "Jiao Li—is guilty."

Mo Hua glanced at him indifferently. "What is your crime?"

Jiao Li kowtowed. "While Lord Wuzhu was away, Jiao Li—harbored disloyal thoughts, did not follow Lord Wuzhu's orders, and did not protect the Wutu Mountain boundary well."

Mo Hua neither agreed nor disagreed, saying nothing.

But the more he said nothing, the more Jiao Li felt terrified, as if a mountain were pressed on his back, squeezing the breath out of him.

Even being stabbed a few times in the chest would feel easier to bear than this.

He did not know how long this torment lasted before footsteps finally sounded from outside the great hall.

Jiao Li knew in his heart that it was probably Wucha who had come.

Wucha was stationed at the Wucha Mountain boundary, which was quite far from the Wutu Mountain boundary, so arriving here would take him longer than Jiao Li.

Wucha had come, and Jiao Li actually slowly let out a breath of relief in his heart.

Because he knew that Wucha's betrayal of Lord Wuzhu was deeper than his own,

He had merely "violated" some of Lord Wuzhu's instructions, whereas Wucha had almost "departed from" Lord Wuzhu's intentions.

The footsteps drew closer, but the one who came was not Wucha, but rather the Red-Armored Savage General from before in the Wulu Tribe, who had followed Wucha's orders and tried to snatch Mo Hua's students.

As soon as this Red-Armored Savage General entered the great hall, he knelt down and did not dare to raise his head.

Mo Hua asked him: "Where is Wucha?"

"Lord Wucha, he—" The Red-Armored Savage General's voice trembled slightly, as if he knew his words would displease Lord Wuzhu.

But he had no choice and could only brace himself to say, "Lord Wucha, he, he said—he has many affairs to attend to, important matters to handle,

so, so he is temporarily unable to come and pay his respects to Lord Wuzhu—" A cold and eerie feeling instantly filled the great hall.

In the great hall, one could hear a pin drop.

Jiao Li did not dare to speak.

The Red-Armored Savage General of the Wulu Tribe pressed his forehead to the cold ground, not even daring to take a full breath.

They did not know exactly what had happened, but they knew that Lord Wuzhu seemed very displeased.

The Red-Armored Savage General was a bit tongue-tied and could only say again:

"Lord Wucha has always been absolutely loyal to you, Lord Wuzhu—as soon as the important matters at hand are finished, he will definitely come in person to beg forgiveness from you, Lord Wuzhu—..."

After speaking, he seemed to realize he had been somewhat presumptuous, and kowtowed repeatedly, saying:

"Please, Lord Wuzhu—forgive me."

"Please, Lord Wuzhu, forgive me."

Inside the great hall, that cold and eerie feeling receded slightly.

Jiao Li and this Red-Armored Savage General, however, did not dare to relax their vigilance in the slightest; they had no idea what this Lord Wuzhu, with his young face but unfathomable depth, was actually thinking in his heart.

After a while, Mo Hua's voice came from the high seat:

"Go and 'invite' Wucha again, and tell him I am here waiting for him, waiting until he comes."

This voice was clear and calm, with no trace of joy or anger,

Yet the Red-Armored Savage General felt every word weighed a thousand pounds.

He kowtowed repeatedly. "Yes, yes, I will go invite Lord Wucha right now; please wait a moment, Lord Wuzhu."

After speaking, he still did not dare to rise; kneeling on the ground, he retreated out.

The great hall was deathly silent.

Jiao Li, this chieftain whose word was law in the Black Horn Tribe, was still prostrated and kneeling on the ground, not daring to make the slightest movement.

If before, being told to kneel would have made him unwilling.

But now, he wished he could just keep kneeling like this, kneel until the end of time, as long as no one disturbed him, as long as Lord Wuzhu did not speak to him. Just like this, Jiao Li knelt for a long time; he knelt in stillness, knelt in peace.

Until this stillness was broken once more by footsteps.

This time the footsteps were more chaotic, more noisy; it seemed there were quite a few people, but most of them stopped once they reached the outside of the great hall.

Only two people entered.

Jiao Li dared not raise his head, but from their qi signatures, he judged one of them was the red-armored barbarian general of the Wulu tribe, and the other's aura was even stronger.

It was his archrival, the chief of the Wulu tribe—Wu Sha.

After entering the hall, the red-armored general instinctively knelt.

Wu Sha did not kneel; he merely bowed to Mo Hua and said:

"Lord Wuzhu, Wu Sha has come late. I beg Lord Wuzhu to punish me."

Mo Hua, who had been leaning on his arm and sitting in his chair in deep thought, lifted his gaze and glanced at Wu Sha.

Wu Sha was truly no longer what he once was.

His cultivation had advanced; his bearing had grown more noble; he wore a splendid barbarian chief's battle robe.

Mo Hua could tell this battle robe had originally been even more luxurious.

But because he was coming to see Mo Hua, Wu Sha had reluctantly removed some golden tassels and jade ornaments, appearing slightly more modest.

It was truly a hardship for him.

Mo Hua's expression was indifferent.

Wu Sha maintained his bow.

After a moment, Mo Hua asked him: "Do you still remember what I told you?"

Wu Sha clasped his hands and replied: "Of course I remember."

Mo Hua asked: "What exactly did I tell you?"

Wu Sha froze; his mind went suddenly blank, unable to speak.

He had forgotten what Mo Hua had told him—or rather, it seemed Mo Hua had told him nothing at all.

Mo Hua's gaze grew colder.

Wu Sha's heart tightened, and he immediately said:

"Wu Sha has obeyed every order of Lord Wuzhu. I have ruled the Wu Sha Mountain Realm well; the tribes have submitted, none dare rebel. In every tribe, statues have been erected, worshipped morning and evening. Each tribe pays tribute on schedule—"

Mo Hua asked: "Did I tell you to do that?"

Wu Sha's heart lurched; in an instant, he suddenly understood something.

Those statues! I shouldn't have erected only my own!

Wu Sha hurriedly said: "Wu Sha erred! I will immediately have those statues changed to Lord Wuzhu's likeness! It is Lord Wuzhu who granted them everything—they should worship Lord Wuzhu, pay tribute to Lord Wuzhu—"

"Lord Wuzhu is the true master of the Mountain Realm. Everything in this realm belongs to Lord Wuzhu—"

Mo Hua sighed inwardly.

Indeed, he understands nothing at all—

Human hearts are like this: each has one opening; those who can understand grasp it easily.

Those who cannot understand are as if their hearts were smothered in lard—no matter how hard they think, they never understand.

Mo Hua looked at Wu Sha and said coldly:

"From now on, you are no longer chief of the Wulu tribe, nor commander of the Wu Sha Mountain Realm."

These words fell upon Wu Sha like a side blade.

Even Jiao Li, kneeling on the ground, trembled involuntarily.

As chief himself, Jiao Li felt it most acutely—he had struggled so hard to reach Gao Wei and become chief of the Heijiao tribe.

What he feared most was precisely this sentence from Lord Wuzhu.

This sentence would strip him of all his honors, shatter every effort he had made thus far.

Wu Sha's heart also grew cold.

He had vaguely anticipated Lord Wuzhu might say this, and had been uneasy about it.

Yet now that the words had truly been spoken, he felt strangely at ease, replaced by a hint of disdain and mockery.

Wu Sha stood straighter; anger flared in his eyes:

"Lord Wuzhu, I have fought for you, bled for you, waged wars across the lands and conquered one mountain realm after another for you—but what have you done?"

Wu Sha dropped the honorific, staring directly at Mo Hua:

"You feared I would seize power, so you elevated Jiao Li to counterbalance me. You feared my forces would grow, so you forbade me from touching the Heijiao tribe's barbarian armor. You even had Elder Zhamu, that old fool, watch me at every turn and prevent me from using your own students—"

"Lord Wuzhu, how can you expect me to remain loyal? How can I still submit to you?"

"Now that you've returned, you immediately turn against me, seeking to strip me of my chieftainship and remove my command—"

Wu Sha sneered coldly, "Do you think it's that simple?"

Mo Hua said calmly: "What do you intend to do?"

"Lord Wuzhu," Wu Sha's expression was blank, "you should know I am no longer what I was. I have reached the peak of Foundation Establishment, one step away from Jin Dan. My barbarian troops are strong; I control several mountain realms with two thousand soldiers."

"Now, all know I, Wu Sha, am the master of the Wu Sha Mountain Realm, dominant in this region, with countless subjects."

"With such power, can you dismiss me with a mere word?"

"Lord Wuzhu?" Wu Sha sneered, "I call you Lord Wuzhu out of respect. If I had no respect, do you truly believe this title of yours makes you some divine being?"

Mo Hua's expression remained calm: "You mean to 'rebel'?"

"Rebel?" Wu Sha laughed bitterly, "Rebel against whom? What is there in you worth rebelling against? I do not seek to rebel—I seek—"

Wu Sha's gaze pierced Mo Hua, declaring:

"For you, Lord Wuzhu, to personally crown me, to openly acknowledge that I, Wu Sha, am the divinely appointed Lord of the Mountain Realm, ruler of this region, beyond challenge."

At these words, the red-armored general was stunned; Jiao Li turned pale.

They had never imagined Wu Sha possessed such ambition.

They never imagined that Yuan Sha had such great ambitions.

Mo Hua shook his head and sighed inwardly.

As expected, his judgment of people was fairly accurate.

Some ungrateful wretches can never be tamed.

Mo Hua asked, "What if I refuse?"

Wusha grinned ferociously. "That's not up to you."

Since the facade had been torn away, there was no need for pleasantries. Having spoken to this extent, this Lord Wuzhu had to agree whether he wanted to or not.

If he refused, they would seize him and coerce him with cruel torture.

Or they would pick off his students one by one, tormenting and killing each, betting he couldn't bear to watch such a scene.

As long as a person has a weakness, they have a vulnerability; this so-called Lord Wuzhu was no different.

Wusha's thoughts raced as he considered whether to strike first. Suddenly a warning premonition rose in his heart. He looked up and saw Mo Hua's pale Bai Xi finger pointing straight at him.

Sorcery?

Wusha's pupils contracted, and he instinctively urged his spiritual power.

Sure enough, almost in the next instant, a fireball tinged with black at its edges shot out from the tip of that Bai Xi finger, hurtling straight toward his chest at an uncanny speed.

It's that fireball again—

Wusha frowned, then sneered inwardly. He activated his barbarian armor, gathering all the strength in his body at his chest.

The next instant, the fireball exploded.

The fire spiritual power, controlled by divine sense, writhed about chaotically like earthworms.

Wusha was blasted back five or six steps, his barbarian armor cracked, his chest burning with fire-heat and freezing with baleful qi. His face changed wildly.

Impossible!

Wusha couldn't believe it.

"I'm already at the peak of Foundation Establishment, my cultivation has advanced by leaps and bounds—why does Lord Wuzhu's fireball still hurt this much when it hits me?"

"No—it's even stronger and fiercer than before?"

Wusha was unconvinced, fury blazing in his heart. He raised his head, about to throw everything into killing Mo Hua, when he happened to meet Mo Hua's eyes.

They were a pair of jet-black, terrifying eyes.

This was also the first time Wusha had ever seen Lord Wuzhu's eyes.

No one knew what terrifying sight he had beheld, what horrifying ordeal he had suffered,

but Wusha's confidence, courage, and the ambition that had swelled from his long reign atop his elevated cultivation were almost instantly shattered to pieces.

Wusha's face went deathly pale. He collapsed to his knees, looking like a worm with its spine ripped out.

Wusha knelt on the ground.

The blackness faded from Mo Hua's eyes, and he returned to normal.

Jiao Li and the red-armored barbarian general had kept their heads lowered the whole time and never saw Mo Hua's eyes, but from the corners of their gaze they could see Wusha's state.

They could never have imagined that the "worm"-like coward before them had, a single breath ago, still been the mountain lord Wusha who dominated a region. Their hearts trembled with awe, and they lowered their heads even further.

Mo Hua looked at Wusha, his tone still calm. "Do you know your fault?"

Wusha was seized with terror; in almost a single instant he lost every shred of backbone, kowtowed and said:

"I know, I know my fault. Please, Lord Wuzhu, don't kill me. I'm still useful, Lord Wuzhu—you can't kill me, you mustn't kill me."

Mo Hua looked at him and asked, "What use are you?"

Wusha hurriedly said, "I am the chieftain of the Wulu tribe, the heart of Wusha Mountain. I have two thousand barbarian soldiers under my command. I will serve Lord Wuzhu,

leading them on his behalf. If I die, the Wulu tribe will fall into chaos, Wusha Mountain will fall into chaos, and those two thousand barbarian soldiers will rebel—"

Mo Hua frowned, turned his head to look at the red-armored barbarian general of the Wulu tribe beside them, and asked:

"What is your name?"

The red-armored barbarian general, realizing Mo Hua was addressing him, shuddered and hurriedly said, "Reporting to Lord Wuzhu, I—this humble general—my name is Yuan…"

Before he could finish, Mo Hua said, "Never mind."

Mo Hua said slowly, "From today on, you shall be called 'Wusha.'"

The red-armored barbarian general was stunned.

I'm called Wusha?

"But—" the red-armored barbarian general couldn't help turning to look at their chieftain. "Chieftain, he—"

—is also called Wusha.

Mo Hua nodded. "There can only be one Wusha."

The red-armored barbarian general paused, then gradually understood. He daringly raised his head and glanced at Lord Wuzhu.

Mo Hua's eyes held a scrutinizing look.

A surge of boldness rose in the red-armored barbarian general's heart. He slowly stood up and walked toward his chieftain Wusha.

The "Wusha" who had lost his name collapsed on his knees, eyes wide, face full of disbelief.

"No, how could you, no—"

He wanted to resist, but he simply couldn't muster the will to resist.

It seemed even the courage to resist had been shattered by those jet-black eyes, along with his ambition.

If Lord Wuzhu wanted him dead, he had to die.

Wusha could only grit his teeth and glare at the red-armored barbarian general who had once been his trusted subordinate. "You—you dare—"

The red-armored barbarian general walked up to Wusha, his face turning vicious. He drew the iron chain from his barbarian armor and wrapped it hard around Wusha's neck, strangling to death the chieftain he had once served.

Wusha lost his name, and lost his life as well.

Afterwards, the red-armored barbarian general even twisted Wusha's head clean off his body.

He cradled "Wucha's" head, walked forward a few steps, knelt on the ground, and presented "Wucha's" head to Mo Hua.

Mo Hua nodded. "From today onward, you are Wucha — the chieftain of the Wulu Tribe, and the commander of Wucha Mountain realm."

The new "Wucha" knelt on the ground and kowtowed three times:

"Thank you, Lord Wuzhu, for your favor."

"'Wucha' will surely keep Lord Wuzhu's instructions in mind, and for Lord Wuzhu, will shed my liver and brain on the ground, without the slightest hesitation."

From then on, a barbarian general had a new name.

A tribe had a new chieftain,

and a mountain realm also had a new commander.

Everything else was "the same as before," without any change.

After doing all this, Mo Hua gave the new "Wucha" his first order:

"I'll give you a letter. Take this letter of mine, go to the valley at the northwest corner of Wucha Mountain realm, and invite my 'guest' over."

"Wucha" did not know who the guest Mo Hua spoke of was, nor did he dare ask.

He could only cradle the letter Mo Hua had given him in both hands, and respectfully said: "Wucha obeys."

After that, "Wucha" departed.

He carried Mo Hua's letter and arrived at the valley Mo Hua had mentioned.

Then he saw a scene he had never in his life seen before, and also met a person he would almost certainly never have met in his entire life up to that point.

Jin Dan!

Fully five Jin Dan cultivators!

In a second-grade mountain realm, he saw five tribal cultivators of the Jin Dan realm!

And the one at their head had looks beyond compare, heroic spirit unmatched — like a divine son descended from the heavens, dazzlingly radiant, impossible to look at directly.

"Wucha" was deeply shaken.

What was even harder for him to accept was that behind these five people, there was also a force of five or six hundred barbarian soldiers.

These barbarian soldiers were, for the vast majority, Foundation Establishment,

and quite a few of them were even at the peak of Foundation Establishment.

Those at his realm and his level of cultivation numbered no fewer than two hundred within this barbarian soldier force.

"Wucha" only felt his back go cold, his liver and gallbladder both trembling.

In other words, this newly appointed "Wucha" of his, within his own small second-grade mountain realm, might be a chieftain, a commander of a mountain.

Yet within this force, he was nothing more than a single, utterly insignificant "barbarian soldier."

"Wuchas" like him could number in the hundreds and thousands.