Chapter 1225: Slaying Bone

At first, the people of the Barbaric Lands probably also thought this was just a simple famine.

In the history of the Great Wastes, famines occurred frequently, and similar records were commonplace.

Most barbaric cultivators, at the start, also thought this famine was like the ones before—some people would starve to death, and once they endured it, everything would be fine.

Until the famine spread rapidly across an even greater range.

The barbaric cultivators shrouded by the famine began to manifest all manner of strange phenomena.

Only then did people realize this time might be a little different…

……

At this moment, upon the barren lands of the three thousand Barbaric Lands.

A force of over six thousand barbaric soldiers marched forward like a long dragon.

As the Lord Wuzhu who needed to lead the way, Mo Hua walked at the very front.

Mo Hua also closely observed every aspect of the famine's current state along the route.

After leaving the Chieftain Wu Tian Tribe, the scenery along the way was no different from before—still utterly desolate—but gradually, human figures could be seen.

These were people who were truly "alive."

And quite a few of them were cultivators from mid-sized and large tribes.

Seeing this, Mo Hua finally breathed a slight sigh of relief.

"Good, there are living people at last…"

Mo Hua began sending people to make contact with these surviving tribal cultivators to understand the situation.

After making contact, Mo Hua also roughly understood why these tribes had been able to survive the famine.

When facing disaster, people are often slow to react.

At first, they too didn't take this famine seriously. But as the "strangeness" of the famine gradually became apparent.

Quite a few tribes became aware of the problem.

These tribes were generally mid-sized or large ones, with secluded old ancestors within, powerful great chieftains, learned great elders, and a host of formidable Jin Dan cultivators.

The height of their realm allowed them to see the problem more clearly than ordinary barbaric cultivators.

Therefore, they also took various measures to cope with the famine.

Even going so far as to migrate their entire clans to evade the disaster.

These measures could not be perfect; many people died along the way, tribes were scattered, broken into pieces, perishing from all manner of unknown causes.

And beyond just foreseeing the disaster, it also depended on the execution of the response.

For some tribes, if they moved too slowly and failed to migrate before the famine spread, the outcome was likely not good either.

But with some tribes providing a foundation, a portion of people did survive in the end.

As for ordinary small tribes, with low realms and unable to foresee the coming of "disaster," they truly could only leave their fate to heaven.

If they were lucky and happened to be in the "crack" between the famine, they could still survive.

The Chieftain Wu Tian Tribe, for instance, was exactly like that.

But if they were unlucky and swallowed whole by the famine, then they could only suffer the fate of tribal annihilation, with everyone reduced to dried corpses.

The "famine" was like a "sieve," filtering the Great Wastes once over.

Those who didn't die in the famine did so either by luck, by chance, or by foreseeing the risk.

But surviving in any case was not easy.

Mo Hua also tried, in the name of "Lord Wuzhu" and Seeing Dan Zhu, to win over these surviving barbaric cultivators, to unite as one and resist the heavenly disaster together.

But most tribes refused.

Those outside my clan must harbor different intentions.

Here in the Barbaric Lands, tribal conflicts were sharp, divisions between them severe, and they would not easily trust others.

Especially now with the famine running rampant, if they threw in their lot with the stranger Mo Hua, there was no guarantee they wouldn't be treated as "provisions."

And the forces "under" Mo Hua were also far too strong.

Lord Lugu, a great general of late Jin Dan, plus some ten-odd Jin Dan commanders from the other Shu Gu Tribe.

The young master of the Dan Que Tribe, Seeing Dan Zhu, along with the Dan Que Tribe's barbaric general Chifeng, and two Jin Dan elders.

Coupled with the murderous Yuan Gu heavy armored soldiers and an alliance of six thousand barbaric soldiers.

Such military strength in a year of famine was almost like a "great crocodile."

If these surviving, scattered tribes threw in their lot with Mo Hua's force, one day they might be swallowed alive and stripped to the bone, with no power to resist.

If Mo Hua resorted to force, he could forcibly "absorb" these tribes.

But that would also be meaningless.

With hearts not united, absorbing them would serve no purpose.

Moreover, Mo Hua himself now also "could hardly protect his own."

If he could preserve his current forces and let these people survive, that would already be a great blessing.

Mo Hua sighed softly in his heart.

But no matter what, it was good that some people were alive.

As long as people were alive, it proved the great famine formation had not yet fully closed, and within this "heavenly disaster," there was still a glimmer of life…

"As for what Senior Uncle actually wants to do with this great famine formation…"

Mo Hua looked up at the pitch-black death qi in the sky, his brows tightly furrowed.

Heaven and earth are as a chessboard, all living beings as pieces.

Now the lands of the Barbaric Lands were the chessboard, and the countless barbaric cultivators were the pieces.

Senior Uncle's pair of pitch-black great hands were manipulating everything.

And he, too, had unknowingly been drawn into his senior cousin's game of chess…

Mo Hua's heart felt heavy, even his soul sea weighed down with oppression.

…

Afterward, Mo Hua continued his journey, yet the pressure in his chest remained stifling.

Dan Zhu and the others' moods, however, improved slightly.

Along the way, many tribes had ties with the Danque Tribe, and they revealed some news about Danque.

From these reports, they learned that the main Danque tribe still survived for now. Though the exact current situation was unknown, at least there was no imminent threat of annihilation.

Dan Zhu and the others exhaled in relief, yet their desire to return to their tribe grew even stronger.

The group pressed on, and after two more days, they saw a mountain range stretching ahead.

Famine, like a miasma, stretched across the horizon, shrouding the entire mountain range and blocking their path.

Dan Zhu and the others split up to scout, traveling for a long time along both flanks of the range, yet the miasma of famine still stretched endlessly before them.

This famine-mixed miasma resembled a "Great Wall," completely isolating them.

The path ahead was utterly blocked.

Everyone's expressions turned solemn.

To continue toward Danque Mountain, where the main Danque tribe resided, they must cross the mountain range before them.

But the famine miasma had withered the entire range. To cross it, all of them would likely die of starvation.

Dan Zhu looked at Mo Hua.

Mo Hua frowned in thought, but for now had no good solution.

He himself had a way—using the Principle of Generation to suppress the famine miasma and cross the mountain range.

But this was only a localized suppression; it could not quell the famine on a large scale.

Six thousand people was too many. Forcing a passage through the famine zone risked triggering "cannibalism," and would surely lead to total annihilation.

Mo Hua's gaze was heavy.

The Heavenly Mechanism was worsening; shadowy figures hovered in his mind; time was running out.

Yet the more urgent it became, the more trivial matters delayed him, dragging out progress.

But rushing would do no good.

The road blocked by famine was a dead end.

Thus, two more days passed in delay.

Before the problem of the famine-blocking road was resolved, another, more pressing issue arose:

"We're running out of food."

Under the famine, food in the Great Wasteland was already scarce, and the provisions for six thousand soldiers were being consumed rapidly.

The supplies they had brought were only meant to last a month.

They had already been away from Wusha Mountain's border for over half a month; soon, their food would be entirely gone.

If so, all the barbarian soldiers would go hungry.

Though cultivators had strong bodies and could endure hunger for long periods, their blood qi would still decline.

Once it dropped below a certain threshold, they would still feel extreme hunger.

If the barbarian soldiers went hungry too long, even without touching the famine miasma, they would lose reason under hunger's drive and erupt into rebellion.

This scenario was something Mo Hua had not anticipated.

He had foreseen the famine, but underestimated its severity.

If this problem isn't solved, mutiny is merely a matter of time.

Once mutiny breaks out and their foundation is lost, nothing else matters anymore.

Dan Zhu and the others clearly realized this issue, and all wore grim, troubled expressions.

At that moment, Lord Lugu spoke to the group: "Let's change our route."

"Change our route?"

"Yes," Lord Lugu said. "Don't go to Danque Tribe yet. Go to Shiguo Tribe first."

"Shiguo…" Chifeng's pupils contracted.

Mo Hua didn't understand. Dan Zhu whispered:

"Shiguo is Lord Lugu's elder brother, another senior general of Shuguo Tribe, at the late Jin Dan stage, stronger than Lord Lugu."

"Shiguo and Lord Lugu are the two strongest generals of Shuguo Tribe."

Mo Hua nodded slightly.

Lord Lugu said: "About a hundred li west from here lies my brother Shiguo's tribe. We'll rest there temporarily and seek supplies."

Chifeng shook his head. "No."

Lord Lugu turned to Chifeng with a cold laugh. "What? Afraid?"

Chifeng's face darkened.

Mo Hua found it odd. He glanced at Chifeng's expression and the suppressed hatred in his eyes, and finally understood.

Chifeng must have had a grudge against Shiguo.

One was a barbarian general of Danque Tribe, the other a Shuguo general—they must have fought before.

And clearly, Chifeng had lost to Shiguo.

Many of his scars were inflicted by Shiguo.

That was why he despised and feared Shiguo.

Chifeng's gaze turned deadly. "Shiguo is a ruthless warlord. We cannot deal with him now."

Lord Lugu asked him: "How does my brother Shibi compare to your Danque tribe's Great Chief?"

Chifeng said: "Naturally, your Danque tribe's Great Chief is stronger."

Lord Lugu smiled faintly: "I dare go meet your Danque tribe's Great Chief myself, yet you dare not follow me to meet my brother Shibi?"

"Do your Danque tribe's Young Master and barbarian generals possess only this much courage? Or do you believe my brother Shibi is stronger than your Great Chief—and more terrifying?"

Chifeng's face darkened with anger, but his nature was resolute and his experience sharp; he would not be provoked by Lord Lugu's taunts, and merely said:

"Our Great Chief upholds righteousness, but my brother Shibi may not."

"We do not go to meet him out of concern for Dan Zhu's safety. Otherwise, Shibi's wolfish ambition might lead him to do anything."

Lord Lugu's gaze turned cold as he looked at Dan Zhu and asked: "Dan Zhu Shaozhu, what is your opinion? Do you… dare go meet my brother?"

Dan Zhu fell silent.

He was not afraid—he had been taught by Lord Wuzhu that a man of great worth does not sit beneath a precarious eave.

One who seeks great achievements must cherish his own life.

At that moment, Mo Hua suddenly spoke:

"Agreed."

Dan Zhu froze. Chifeng looked puzzled.

Even Lord Lugu was taken aback.

"Agreed," Mo Hua nodded. "We change course. We go to meet your brother Shibi."

Lord Lugu fell silent for a moment, but since Mo Hua had agreed, he had no reason to refuse.

"No wonder you are Lord Wuzhu—you truly have boldness…" Lord Lugu said coolly. "Then it is settled."

Once they met his brother Shibi, the two Jin Dan late-stage generals would unite.

Even with Chifeng, Dan Zhu, and over a hundred and fifty Yuan Bone heavy-armored soldiers, they could not protect this shaman.

If the two brothers joined forces to kill him, this demonic shaman would surely die without doubt.

Even if they did not truly kill this demonic shaman, forcing him into captivity through sheer power would suffice.

Best of all would be to pry from this demon's mouth the secret of the ancestral Shu Bone armor—this was the most important thing…

Lord Lugu watched Mo Hua, revealing nothing.

Mo Hua's gaze was clear, his expression calm.

He understood Lord Lugu's intentions perfectly, but the moment was urgent—he must use every means to unite every possible force.

If Shibi could be "wooed," "allied with," or even merely coexisted with under a "non-aggression" pact, he would be an immense ally.

Then he could "command" two Jin Dan late-stage generals of the Shu Bone tribe and hold the military power of two Shu Bone main factions.

Though this idea was somewhat too idealistic—its path would be fraught with difficulty and great risk.

But in this world, risk and reward have always been born together.

To seek gain without bearing risk is nearly impossible.

He was not without leverage in negotiating with Shibi.

Mo Hua's gaze was steady and profound.

……

With Mo Hua's word, the matter was settled.

Dan Zhu and Chifeng said nothing more.

Lord Lugu readily agreed.

The group changed course westward, heading toward the territory of the Shibi tribe.

Due to the treacherous terrain and widespread famine, with occasional tribes provoking them, they stumbled along for two days before reaching the valley where the Shibi tribe resided.

Upon entering the valley, low shrubs came into view, their yellow-brown hues streaked with faint green.

Lin Mu had not withered.

Beasts roared in the distance.

In ordinary times, this scene might be called "desolate."

But amid the current famine, it was nearly "teeming with life."

Not only did Lord Lugu's eyes gleam with delight.

Even Dan Zhu and Chifeng, accustomed to withered earth and starved corpses, felt a sense of relief upon seeing this sight.

Walking through this valley, so "vibrant with life" and nearly untouched by famine's miasma, everyone's steps grew unconsciously lighter.

Mo Hua also slowly relaxed.

But after walking another ten li, Mo Hua's expression gradually changed.

Yet he said nothing.

The group pressed forward, and soon, Lord Lugu—who had worn an air of serene contentment—also sensed something amiss, his face turning solemn.

After walking further, all the Jin Dan cultivators noticed the anomaly.

Too quiet…

The valley was clearly "teeming with life," with beasts roaring, yet there was not a single human sound.

When the group reached the valley's entrance and gazed upon the gates of the Shibi tribe, every heart sank instantly.

They saw no famine miasma.

But they saw the reddish-yellow mist—the blend of rotting blood from famine deaths and the valley's poisonous vapors.

The valley entrance was entirely choked with famine's miasma.

Within the valley, the entire Shibi tribe—its towering, strange barbarian tents and towers—was fully "submerged" in thick, choking miasma.

Outside the valley, the land remained untouched by famine.

But the entire valley had been completely swallowed by the Hunger Plague.

Even after being consumed for who knew how long, blood-dripping clots of stinking blood had formed on the eaves of tents and the edges of stone statues, dripping drop by drop.

Aside from that, nothing else remained.

The air fell deathly still.

This is…

The others exchanged glances, their faces pale.

Lord Lugu stepped closer, his heart filled with shock and dread; he immediately activated his Jin Dan power, channeling it into his dantian, and shouted loudly:

"Brother!"

"Lisu?!"

"Where is everyone? Where did they all die?"

He was at the late stage of Jin Dan; his blood qi surged powerfully, and these shouts roared like a tiger, shaking the mountains and forests, echoing for a long time.

But no one answered.

The surroundings remained eerily silent.

Lord Lugu pondered for a moment, his gaze turning ruthless; he casually pointed to several Shu Gu soldiers and said: "You, go inside and see if anyone's still alive."

Mo Hua's gaze darkened and said: "Don't go."

These Shu Gu soldiers did not want to go either; they glanced at Mo Hua, then fearfully at Lord Lugu.

Lord Lugu's eyes blazed with ferocity: "Is he the general, or am I the general?"

Mo Hua was not the "Lord Wuzhu" of the Shu Gu tribe; he could not command Lord Lugu.

Fearing Lord Lugu's authority, these Shu Gu soldiers could only grit their teeth and walk into the thick miasma.

The moment they touched the Hunger Plague's aura, they felt something strange—their faces turned grim, their eyes betraying an involuntary hunger.

Red and yellow miasma, like blood dew, seeped through their mouths and noses into their meridians.

Mo Hua frowned.

Lord Lugu still ordered: "Keep going deeper!"

These Shu Gu soldiers were hungry inside, but still retained reason; they could only obey Lord Lugu's command as their general and walked deeper into the valley.

As they walked, they vanished into the depths of the miasma.

Moments later, a wet, fleshy tearing sound came from within the miasma.

Then all sound ceased—no movement remained.

Lord Lugu grew restless and pointed to several more soldiers: "You, go in again. If you find anyone, shout out."

These Shu Gu soldiers named were filled with terror.

Seeing Dan Zhu could no longer bear it; he frowned and said:

"The Lisu tribe may have already relocated—there might be no one left in this miasma. No need to send more men to die."

Lord Lugu paid no heed.

How could he not wish his brother's tribe had moved away, that not a soul remained in this fog?

But he simply could not be reassured.

Outside the valley, not a single trace of "human" remained—if they had moved, where could they have gone?

But if the Lisu had not moved… and were still "alive" within these Hunger Plague miasmas…

A cold dread surged uncontrollably from Lord Lugu's heart.

He ordered without hesitation: "Go! Go inside and see!"

The Shu Gu soldiers hesitated.

Lord Lugu immediately struck viciously, snapping the neck of one soldier.

The other soldiers named, seeing this, could only walk toward the miasma, trembling with fear.

Their fate was no different.

Amid a few screams and the wet, gnawing sounds of flesh being torn, they too vanished forever into the thick fog.

Yet Lord Lugu still refused to give up; this time, he seemed ready to name even more soldiers.

Just then, Mo Hua's expression changed slightly; he shook his head and said: "No need to trouble yourselves…"

Lord Lugu froze.

Mo Hua said gravely: "The 'people' inside… have come out…"

Before he finished speaking, the blood qi of the dead soldiers seemed to awaken the fog.

The thick miasma began to churn, stirring awake those who had been "asleep" within.

Silhouettes began to emerge from the red and yellow miasma, symbolizing the Hunger Plague.

One after another, soon forming a dark, dense mass.

In the deathly silence, they appeared profoundly eerie.

At the center of this crowd of silhouettes stood an immensely tall figure—powerful, majestic, like a small giant, resembling Lord Lugu in some ways.

Lord Lugu had long wished to see his brother—now it seemed he would.

Yet for some reason, his scalp prickled slightly.

(End of Chapter)