Chapter 1234: Controlling the Corpse

Inside the military camp prison.

Jin Wu, who had been living in constant fear, had a nightmare.

In the nightmare, all his crimes were exposed.

All his schemes and plans, all his baseness and betrayals, were laid bare before others.

A terrifying ghostly shadow toyed with him in the darkness, seeking to devour his soul and doom him to eternal ruin.

Jin Wu's mangled flesh began to tremble, beads of cold sweat breaking out on his forehead.

Suddenly, a cool breeze passed—he jolted awake, glancing wildly around, gasping for breath.

After staring for a long while and seeing nothing unusual, Jin Wu finally exhaled a long, shaky breath.

But before he could even finish breathing, his eyes flew wide open—he saw, standing before him without warning, a shadow as large as a mountain, radiating a chilling aura of death, terrifying beyond words.

The figure was unmistakably familiar—exactly as it had appeared in his nightmare.

Yet he had woken from the nightmare, and now the nightmare had descended into reality.

He remembered now: in the dream, the man he had always feared had twisted his neck, torn open his chest, broken his limbs, and devoured him alive…

Jin Wu's teeth began to chatter.

"Slay…Bone…my lord… I…"

Before he could finish speaking, the black shadow moved.

A pair of pitch-black, icy, decayed hands clamped around Jin Wu's neck.

Jin Wu felt, just as before, that familiar aura of authority.

It was his loyal general, his loyal "master."

But this authority was colder, crueler than ever before. The corpse-like touch on his neck shattered his sanity in an instant, sending violent shudders through his entire body.

In the pitch-black night, a hoarse, horrifying voice spoke:

"Why did you betray me…"

The voice blended many others—as if dozens of vengeful ghosts screamed together, yet beneath it all lay the clear, youthful tone of a boy.

But Jin Wu, lost in terror, did not notice—this voice pierced his mental defenses in an instant.

"No! No!"

Jin Wu's voice cracked—he rasped, "I didn't betray you, SlayBone my lord! It wasn't me… I would never betray you!"

The ghostly voice from the darkness spoke again:

"If not you, then who?"

Jin Wu dared not speak.

SlayBone's hand tightened.

The Small Spirit Pivot Array lacked strong control; the SlayBone corpse, after being "corpse-ified" by the Pivot, possessed only weak strength—it could not snap Jin Wu's neck.

But what truly terrified Jin Wu was SlayBone himself.

He sensed the corpse's icy chill, the increasing pressure—and years of accumulated fear of SlayBone consumed him first.

"Bi Fang Clan!" Jin Wu screamed at once, "It was… Bi Fang Clan!"

SlayBone's grip loosened slightly, urging him to continue.

Jin Wu, still trembling, pale-faced, said:

"Bi Fang Clan… offered me rewards, told me to sneak several 'guests' into the tribe while you were unaware, then I didn't have to do anything else…"

"I felt uneasy, so I made an excuse and slipped out of the valley alone, hid for a few days—when I returned, the entire tribe had been… swallowed up…"

"I… I never meant to betray you…"

Jin Wu said.

SlayBone's pitch-black, hollow eye sockets fixed on Jin Wu, his decaying corpse aura washing over him.

At the same time, another gloomy voice spoke:

"You're lying…"

Jin Wu's eyes flickered with panic.

In the darkness, this subtle change was minute—but Mo Hua caught it.

A flash of blue light appeared in Mo Hua's eyes; a strange Spirit Pivot pattern glowed faintly in SlayBone's sockets, and the corpse-hand's grip on Jin Wu's neck grew stronger.

"Speak!"

The image from his nightmare—SlayBone my lord twisting his neck, tearing him apart like a roasted chicken, devouring him—flashed again in Jin Wu's mind.

Jin Wu could no longer hide—he trembled with fear:

"It… it… if it were only Bi Fang Clan, I would never dare… it was… Bi Fang Clan gave me… the Grand Chief's secret letter… ordering me to kill you…"

Mo Hua's pupils contracted slightly, his voice like a ghostly wail: "The Bi Fang Grand Chief?"

"No, not him," Jin Wu stammered, "it was… Shu Gu Grand Chief…"

Mo Hua's heart jolted—before he could speak further, an unusual surge of spiritual awareness erupted from the darkness nearby—someone, upon hearing this news, had lost emotional composure.

Mo Hua's eyebrows twitched slightly.

At that moment, the blue light within SlayBone's bones dimmed, and his spiritual energy began to drain.

Others could not sense it—but Mo Hua, the one controlling the corpse, knew perfectly well.

It meant SlayBone's corpse was nearing its limit of movement.

A first-grade Spirit Pivot Array—even an ultimate one—was simply too weak to control a third-grade late-stage corpse like SlayBone.

Another issue: SlayBone's corpse was too massive, his cultivation foundation too profound.

The core of the Small Spirit Pivot Array could not supply enough driving force—after merely moving a few times, its spiritual energy was nearly exhausted.

This "performance" could end here—any further acting would expose the truth.

Mo Hua's "Puppet Corps" were also failing.

Mo Hua glanced again at Jin Wutu, his eyes shifting from pale blue to golden, streaked with black, coalescing into a deadly sword intent.

Startling Sword.

As this sword pierced his eyes, Jin Wutu first suffered a nightmare, then was terrorized by the corpse of Lugu — his mind, already on the edge of fear, shattered instantly; his pupils dilated, and he gradually fainted.

After Jin Wutu collapsed, Mo Hua used his spiritual awareness to guide the nearly depleted corpse of Lugu away.

The massive, hill-like body stepped slowly outward.

Mo Hua walked behind Lugu.

When they reached the prison gate, Mo Hua halted, gazing into the darkness beside him, and said softly: "You heard it all."

From the darkness beside him, a figure emerged.

As tall and imposing as Lugu, majestic and terrifying in presence.

It was Lugu's younger brother, Jin Dan late-stage Lord Lugu.

Lord Lugu stared silently at Mo Hua, saying nothing.

Mo Hua pondered a moment, then spoke: "Jin Wutu was your brother's subordinate; he knew well the strength and terror of your brother, Lugu. Even if the Bifang Clan offered him benefits, he would never have dared betray him."

"But if… your Tie Shugu Clan's Grand Chief personally ordered him to sabotage Lugu, the situation would be entirely different…"

Mo Hua slowly turned his head toward Lord Lugu. "Lugu is too powerful, his influence too great, his achievements overwhelming his lord. Your Tie Shugu Clan's Grand Chief surely cannot tolerate him."

Lord Lugu's face darkened, grim beyond measure.

He may have considered this before — but unless experienced firsthand, one refuses to believe it.

Yet this matter was not what troubled him most.

Lord Lugu's gaze fixed on the corpse of Lugu, standing like a divine demon's servant in the darkness, his expression icy cold.

"What have you done to my brother?"

Lord Lugu confronted Mo Hua.

Mo Hua fell silent for a moment, then asked: "Do you remember what I told you before… I asked you whether you wanted to cremate your brother's body… you refused."

Lord Lugu's expression was stern.

Mo Hua looked at Lord Lugu. "If so, the karmic thread changes — the 'fate' changes… I can only follow the Divine Lord's decree and guide your brother… toward his inevitable destiny."

Lord Lugu stood in the darkness, silent as stone; his eyes, fixed on Mo Hua, flickered with killing intent — but he ultimately suppressed it.

Mo Hua said no more. Before Lord Lugu's eyes, he controlled his brother Lugu's corpse and slowly retreated.

Lord Lugu watched Mo Hua's back, drew a deep breath, and said slowly:

"Indeed… a demon who manipulates hearts — even the dead…"

…

In Lord Lugu's eyes, Mo Hua — who indeed seemed less than human — manipulated Lugu's corpse back into the coffin.

The spiritual energy of the Ling Shu Array was exhausted; Lugu's corpse needed slow nourishment.

His body and the array must gradually harmonize, merging completely.

This required time — slow sedimentation, slow cultivation.

Lugu's hill-sized corpse slowly lay within the massive coffin; Mo Hua sealed it again, adding extra arrays around it to prevent disturbance.

Lugu sank back into slumber.

Jin Wutu's mouth had been pried open; he revealed secrets unknown to all.

Mo Hua temporarily imprisoned Jin Wutu, but did not kill him.

The next task: attack the oasis.

While Mo Hua used bone-carved Ling Shu Array to control Lugu's remains, Dan Zhu and Chifeng had already been preparing for this.

They had not attacked the oasis earlier — first because Jin Wutu had not been captured, second because innocent cultivators still dwelled there.

Now, Jin Wutu had been captured.

Something had happened in the oasis — all the various barbarian cultivators who had taken refuge there had vanished.

Worse, the barbarian troops' supplies were nearly exhausted.

Attacking the oasis was now inevitable.

The overall strategy had already been agreed upon by Lord Lugu, Dan Zhu, and Chifeng.

Mo Hua reviewed it, performed a brief causal deduction, found no flaws, and nodded.

…

At dawn the next day, the assault on the oasis began.

Lord Lugu, a late-stage Jin Dan general, wielding the Demon-Slaying Bone Blade, charged at the front.

The other Jin Dan cultivators and over six thousand barbarian soldiers surged forward together.

Yellow sand filled the sky; battle cries shook the earth.

After half a day of fierce combat, by evening, the oasis guarded by a mysterious force was taken.

The enemy's late-stage Jin Dan elder, clad in black-green robes, after hundreds of rounds of combat, was defeated by Lord Lugu and fled for his life.

The other Jin Dan cultivators were no match for Chifeng, Dan Zhu, and their allies — some fled, others died.

The oasis guards, though numbering over a thousand and at Foundation Establishment, were utterly powerless against Mo Hua's Yuan Bone Heavy Armor troops and the six thousand barbarians.

In direct confrontation, the oasis guards shattered at the first charge.

They were "guards," not true barbarian soldiers trained for death; against ordinary cultivators they might have seemed formidable, but against battle-hardened barbarians, they were weak — especially with such overwhelming numerical disadvantage.

Yet they did not fight to the death; after defeat, they scattered and retreated.

Chifeng led a pursuit for a while, but did not chase deeply.

Afterwards, clearing up the aftermath took considerable effort.

By the time the sun set behind Luoshan, this oasis had been fully seized by Mo Hua and his men.

During the battle, Mo Hua merely watched from afar.

Now that the fighting was over, he began leading teams to loot the spoils.

Abilities must be used where they matter most.

If others can handle battle, let them handle it.

But looting war spoils—this "technical craft"—Mo Hua had to handle personally.

His powerful, profound, mysteriously precise, utterly unique twenty-three-pattern Dao-transformed spiritual sense spread outward, revealing every trapdoor, hidden wall, secret passage, and concealed chamber in full view.

"Take some men and follow me."

Mo Hua walked ahead, accompanied by Elder Bashan and Elder Bachuan, the two Jin Dan elders in charge of internal affairs, beginning a comprehensive, no-corner-left-untouched "carpet search" of the entire oasis.

Every door and window was pried open. Every hidden wall was smashed apart.

Every secret tunnel was exposed. Every asset was seized.

Mo Hua, like a locust swarm crossing the land, "devoured" the entire oasis, reaping rich rewards.

Many assets had naturally been taken away by the oasis's high-ranking officials.

But the remaining supplies were still substantial.

First, there were simply too many items; the oasis leadership had no time to move them all in their haste.

Second, they likely never imagined anyone could raid with the thoroughness of grave-robbing—so thoroughly that everything hidden in secret passages and traps had fallen into Mo Hua's hands.

Mo Hua gathered all the loot together, gave it a quick scan, and noticed several problems:

First, in the storage rooms and secret tunnels, he found several tribal totems.

These totems were blackish-blue, fearsome birds.

This meant the oasis was likely a secret base of the Bifang Tribe.

Coupled with Jin Wu's "confession," Mo Hua guessed the elderly Jin Dan cultivator clad in black-green robes, face concealed, who wielded treacherous toxic gas, was probably another elder of the Bifang Tribe.

The Bifang Tribe was deeply entangled in this.

Yet, like that black Bifang beast, they lurked in shadows, committing evil deeds, yet never revealed themselves.

And the entire oasis was, in truth, a "pig-slaughtering scheme."

On the surface, it was bustling and prosperous—a green oasis in the desert, a refuge during famine, a den of indulgence and waste.

But once you entered, you were treated like a pig to be slaughtered.

If you were wealthy, every meal, drink, and pleasure came at an exorbitant price.

If you were beautiful, you'd be secretly coveted, seized, forced into pleasure, even possibly coerced into selling your body to earn spirit stones for others.

If you were of noble status, they'd flatter you, lure you, and make you serve their interests.

Once your external value was fully exploited, all that remained was your flesh—likely branded as a "barbarian slave" and sold to others.

This was true, flesh-eating without leaving a bone.

In the oasis's prison, Mo Hua saw numerous dead barbarian cultivators, women tortured to death, and many corpses bearing slave brands.

Though these corpses were rotten and cold, the remaining skin still looked soft and delicate—clear evidence they had once lived in luxury.

Mo Hua looked on, feeling a deep sense of sorrow.

Of course, what concerned Mo Hua most was the matter of supplies.

In this oasis, he discovered vast quantities of "Bìgǔ Pills"—these pills, packed in identical bottles, filled several storage rooms.

Though their quality wasn't exceptional and many were defective, in a year of famine, who cared? These Bìgǔ Pills were enough to stave off hunger and save lives.

This was precisely the most urgent supply Mo Hua's six-thousand barbarian troops needed.

This large stockpile would sustain them for a long time.

Mo Hua was delighted—but only for a moment. He instantly realized something deeply strange:

Where did these Bìgǔ Pills come from?

In the Great Wilderness, cultivation productivity was low, alchemical techniques were extremely backward, and food and herbs were scarce.

A few isolated Bìgǔ Pills were understandable.

But how were these vast quantities of Bìgǔ Pills produced?

Which tribe could produce so many Bìgǔ Pills?

Mo Hua's brow slowly furrowed.

From the piled supplies, he pulled out a bottle of Bìgǔ Pills, studying the container with a puzzled expression.

All the bottles were identical, seemingly mass-produced on a uniform cultivation production line—pure white, unmarked, unetched, their origin unknown.

But Mo Hua, with his vast experience, faintly sensed these Bìgǔ Pills seemed to be…

Items from the Dao Court?

(End of Chapter)