Chapter 1239: Cultivating Demon?

In the time that followed, Mo Hua continued to expand his "annexation," absorbing all small tribes along the way through military force, martial might, his personal authority as Lord Wuzhu, and threats of "tribal extermination."

Thanks to the calculations of the Hua family's ancestral elder, Mo Hua now held a map of the final battleground of the Great Wilderness.

But a map is merely a map.

With tribes in chaos and the situation perilous, no one knew what was happening in every corner of the Great Wilderness at this very moment.

This map, too, was shrouded in mist.

What Mo Hua must do is slowly explore the map, dispel the mist, and annex every tribe he discovers along the way, continually strengthening his own power.

His current military strength was not weak.

But Mo Hua knew that against the powerful enemies and great calamities yet to come, this force was far from sufficient.

He must seize as many "pieces" as possible before the true enemies and true calamities arrive, making his strength stronger.

……

After another month of "annexation," Mo Hua's power grew further; the surrounding small forces had already been "consumed" almost entirely.

The number of troops under Mo Hua's command reached eleven thousand.

Yet the total population of the entire group amounted to twenty-five thousand.

This was because tribes consisted not only of troops but also of ordinary barbarian cultivators.

Mo Hua could not merely conscript troops while ignoring the fate of ordinary barbarian cultivators, so the elderly, the young, the weak, and the injured were also "absorbed" alongside them.

The entire group had become bloated.

Mo Hua planned to find a territory soon, establish a temporary domain, settle the ordinary barbarian cultivators, and have them engage in cultivation-based production to supply wartime needs, becoming a rear base.

Only then could the barbarian soldiers at the front wage war without restraint.

Moreover, with the rear stabilized and their kin still alive, the barbarian soldiers at the front would have a reason to fight, and could fight bravely without fear.

A person must first have a "home" and "kin" before they can hold the belief of "protecting home and clan."

Otherwise, these barbarian soldiers he had absorbed would be nothing but "mercenaries," with no reason to fight, and would collapse at the first sign of trouble.

Mo Hua's "ambition" was great: he sought to prove his Dao and give the people of the Great Wilderness a glimmer of hope.

This could not be achieved with military force alone.

He needed territory, needed to build a vast cultivation-based productive system, accumulate resources, expand production, so as to sustain civilian life, supply war, and ensure endless renewal—this was the path of longevity.

Of course, such things must be done step by step.

Currently, it was still the process of small fish eating shrimp, growing into a "big fish."

Now that all small tribes had been "consumed," Mo Hua planned to target weaker medium and small tribes next.

The first medium-sized tribe he encountered while exploring the map was called "Chuiyun Tribe."

This tribe had one Jin Dan chieftain, one Jin Dan elder, one thousand barbarian troops, and overall strength that was decent.

With Mo Hua's forces, forcibly seizing Chuiyun Tribe would be simple.

But the problem was, the Chuiyun chieftain refused to submit.

He looked down on Mo Hua, this young-faced so-called "Lord Wuzhu."

Mo Hua found it difficult to slaughter them all, and even hesitated to use force against Chuiyun Tribe.

It was because of the words "Chuiyun."

"Chuiyun" was the name of a barbarian horse.

And this Chuiyun Tribe had, for generations, served larger tribes, specializing in breeding barbarian horses, occasionally even offering superior barbarian horses as tribute to Wang Ting.

This meant that while their own strength was weak, their unique skill had always earned them preferential treatment from various factions.

Many powerful tribes lacking sufficient ancestral merit or noble bloodline could not gain Chuiyun Tribe's recognition.

Let alone Mo Hua, this Lord Wuzhu.

Moreover, the Chuiyun chieftain was hot-tempered, stubborn, easily angered, and utterly blind—he saw no extraordinary quality in Mo Hua's divine path, no transcendent aura, only mistaking Mo Hua for a "fraudulent trickster" and a shaman.

Even Lord Lugu, a late-stage Jin Dan, he dismissed with contempt.

Having raised horses for nobles, he fancied himself a noble too.

And indeed, he had the grounds for such arrogance.

Had it not been for the famine that disrupted the Great Wilderness's borders and threw its entire situation into chaos, this horse-breeding Chuiyun Tribe would never have ended up here.

Mo Hua valued talent and truly hesitated to kill them.

Raising horses was no easy task; Chuiyun Tribe was indeed highly useful to him.

He already possessed over one hundred and fifty barbarian horses seized from Wujiu Tribe, and had no one to care for them.

Moreover, should his power grow further and he seize stronger barbarian horses, demonic horses, or even beast-beasts suitable as mounts, he would need specialized talent to raise them.

Under the current circumstances, such specialized "horse-breeding" tribes were either seized by others or perished in the famine.

Each member of Chuiyun Tribe was a loss if killed.

Once missed, finding another tribe to raise horses for him on this mist-shrouded map would be nearly impossible.

Mo Hua did not wish to use brute force; instead, he calmed himself and approached the Chuiyun chieftain with calm, amicable negotiation.

He lowered his posture considerably.

But his humility only became another reason for the Chuiyun chieftain to despise him—he deemed Mo Hua a fake Lord Wuzhu, mocked him, and dismissed his overtures with scorn.

Mo Hua's patience gradually wore thin.

He inquired about the Chuiyun chieftain's character and discovered the man was hot-tempered, easily angered, and of abysmal character.

As chieftain and Jin Dan, he stood at the highest rank, strongest in power, and ruled with absolute authority.

He wielded a leather whip as a treasure; when a horse disobeyed, he whipped it mercilessly.

He treated people the same way: anyone who defied him or displeased him, regardless of kinship, would be whipped like a horse.

Sometimes, when drunk, he had even whipped his own clansmen to death.

In the entire tribe, he, as chief, wielded immense authority, and no one dared to defy him.

Mo Hua felt murderous intent, but after thinking, he decided it wasn't that simple.

No matter how vile the chief of Zhuoyun Tribe was, he was still the chief—their "ruler" in the eyes of the tribe's people.

I am an outsider; killing this chief would be meddling in tribal affairs.

Even if they lost a "tyrant," these tribespeople might not thank me.

If this were an ordinary tribe, it wouldn't matter—Mo Hua didn't care about such things.

But these people of Zhuoyun Tribe needed a reason to genuinely "submit."

Mo Hua furrowed his brow, then sighed.

"What a pity… I can't use Daoxin Zhongmo…"

And I certainly can't use it recklessly, on a large scale. Otherwise, I could just use Daoxin Zhongmo to make them submit.

This chief of Zhuoyun Tribe deserves to die—direct mind manipulation would suffice.

But Daoxin Zhongmo is my uncle's exclusive technique.

Now his sword hangs above my head; if I rashly use his method, I'll invite disaster again without care.

Once bitten by a snake, one fears ropes for ten years. Mo Hua had been crushed by his uncle—he couldn't afford to be careless.

"Use Daoxin Zhongmo… to manipulate another's mind…"

As Mo Hua thought, he suddenly froze, realizing a problem:

"Why do I always habitually think of learning from my uncle, to 'manipulate' others?"

"Doesn't this mean… I'm walking my uncle's path?"

"If I keep going this way, won't I gradually become just like him?"

Walking my uncle's path for now is acceptable—after all, on the path of spiritual awareness, he's far stronger than me; there's no helping it.

But I can't keep following him forever, or won't I become the next "Devil Daoist"?

Before my uncle assimilates me, I'll have already assimilated myself.

No…

Mo Hua frowned.

"But if I don't use Daoxin Zhongmo…"

After long thought, Mo Hua couldn't help but consider another question.

Daoxin Zhongmo is a spiritual awareness technique—it plants a demonic seed to "manipulate" another's consciousness and alter their beliefs.

But…

Why must I forcibly "manipulate"?

If I discern the heart, exploit human flaws, and "persuade" others to achieve my goal…

Isn't the outcome the same as Daoxin Zhongmo?

If I do this, might I…

Bypass the technical barriers of Daoxin Zhongmo and reach my goal directly?

Mo Hua's gaze grew dark.

In a sense, this is also using "technique" to comprehend "principle"?

After understanding the spiritual awareness mechanism of Daoxin Zhongmo, abandon its fixed "technique," and instead use powerful spiritual awareness to pierce the heart, influencing others' perceptions through ordinary speech?

The effect would certainly be weaker than my uncle's Daoxin Zhongmo.

But it would be more natural, more subtle.

And since there's no obvious trace of "technique," others won't sense it—they'll be defenseless, and my uncle likely won't notice at all.

After pondering, Mo Hua turned his deep gaze toward Zhuoyun Tribe, observing every person within it.

The chief of Zhuoyun Tribe won't do—he's hot-tempered, stubborn, and deaf to reason.

The tribe's elder is too old, his eyes cloudy, his thoughts unreadable—hard to act upon.

The other key figures…

The chief's eldest son has decent strength but a poor character—unreliable.

The second son is cunning—worthless to use.

The chief's third son is the least noticeable, with a dull, silent nature; he's often beaten and scolded by his father, yet never speaks up—he seems to endure everything passively, but his eyes… are different.

Mo Hua made his decision.

Afterwards, he concealed his presence and watched the chief's third son for two full days.

Finally, when no one was around, he appeared before the chief's third son as if from nowhere.

At that moment, the third son had just been punished and whipped by his father; alone in his room, he smeared crude herbs over his whip marks, like a solitary beast silently licking its wounds in a lonely corner, enduring solitude and pain.

So when Mo Hua suddenly appeared, he was terrified, his face turning pale.

Mo Hua glanced at his wounds and asked calmly: "What's your name?"

The boy fell silent for a moment, then answered in a hoarse voice:

"Chi Ju…"

He seemed to know who Mo Hua was; after hesitation, he still spoke his name.

"Chi Ju…" Mo Hua raised an eyebrow. "Is that a human name—or a horse's name?"

The boy named Chi Ju said:

"In Zhuoyun Tribe, people grow up with horses—people are much like horses. What people eat, horses eat too. When horses are beaten…"

People are beaten too…

Mo Hua looked at Chi Ju, his gaze clear and deep as a still pool, as if seeing through every thought in the quiet boy's heart, and asked:

"Do you want to become chieftain?"

"Red Colt's" face changed, and he hurriedly said, "N-no… no…"

Mo Hua asked him, "Is it that you don't want to… or that you don't dare?"

Red Colt could not speak.

Mo Hua said slowly, "I want to hear the truth—tell me your most honest thoughts. In this life, you only have this one chance. If you miss it, there will never be another…"

Red Colt did not know what Mo Hua meant, but deep in his heart, there seemed to be a sense of urgency. As if fate had laid out a path before him, letting him choose.

Red Colt slowly nodded, his gaze firm. "I… want to be chieftain."

Mo Hua nodded. "Good. I understand. The Divine Lord will grant your wish and show you the way."

Red Colt was stunned. "…Grant my wish?"

Mo Hua inclined his head. "Yes."

"But…" Red Colt did not understand. "The current chieftain is my father."

Mo Hua said, "The Divine Lord has his own arrangements."

Red Colt still did not quite understand. He wanted to say more, but Mo Hua's figure had already vanished before him.

When he came, there was no sign.

When he vanished, there was not a trace either.

As if he were… an envoy of the "divine."

But… become chieftain?

Deep in Red Colt's heart there was a faint yearning, but more than that, confusion—he did not understand what this meant.

The next day, he understood.

His father was dead.

The Great Elder convened a council of elders, gathering the clansmen of the Cloud-Chasing Tribe. With a sorrowful face he said, "The Chieftain… was suddenly struck by a terrible illness and has departed from us just like that…"

The crowd exchanged glances, not knowing what "terrible illness" could strike so suddenly.

But the Great Elder knew.

It was the "terrible illness" of having his neck snapped in his sleep by a high-level cultivator.

At the same time, the Divine Lord's envoy had also appeared to him in a dream, giving him certain instructions.

The Great Elder called Red Colt's name. "Red Colt… the Chieftain left a final wish before his death, naming you as the new chieftain of the Cloud-Chasing Tribe."

Red Colt's eyes went wide, his face blank with bewilderment.

His two elder brothers wore expressions of fury.

The assembled clansmen of the Cloud-Chasing Tribe all showed looks of astonishment, not understanding why the Chieftain would pass the position not to the First Young Master or the Second Young Master,

but to this youngest son whom he had valued least in his lifetime.

Before the crowd could voice their confusion, Mo Hua arrived with a group of Jin Dan cultivators from the Dan Que Tribe and the Shu Gu Tribe, their presence overwhelming.

"I have come to pay my respects to the Chieftain," Mo Hua said with a look of regret. Then he turned his head, his gaze carrying a sharp edge, and asked, "Who is the next chieftain?"

Though his voice was soft, his presence was so terrifying that no one in the Cloud-Chasing Tribe dared answer.

At a moment like this, everyone knew that becoming chieftain meant bearing the enormous pressure from Mo Hua.

That pressure, no one dared to bear.

The eldest son of the Cloud-Chasing Chieftain pointed at Red Colt and said, "On his deathbed, our father passed the position of chieftain to Red Colt."

Mo Hua inclined his head, looked at Red Colt, and said with an expressionless face, "I have matters I wish to discuss with the new Chieftain."

Under the fearful gazes of the Cloud-Chasing Tribe clansmen, the new "Chieftain," Red Colt, was led aside by Mo Hua.

Red Colt looked at Mo Hua, unable to hide the terror in his heart. "You… you…"

Mo Hua said calmly, "I told you—the Divine Lord will grant your wish."

Red Colt could hardly believe it. "But… I… my father…"

Mo Hua said, "Your father passed away of natural causes. Everything is the Divine Lord's guidance."

"But…" Red Colt's mind was shaken; he did not know what to say.

Mo Hua then asked him, "Didn't you say you wanted to be chieftain?"

"Yes…"

"Why do you want to be chieftain?"

Red Colt stammered, unable to speak.

Mo Hua looked into his eyes and said, "You don't want your clansmen to be oppressed by your father any longer. You don't want the tribe's wild horses to be whipped by your father any longer. Now that famine is rampant, you want the tribe to survive and multiply. You also want the Cloud-Chasing Tribe to grow strong… These are things your father could never do. Your father's cruelty would only bring about the tribe's destruction…"

Red Colt's innermost heart seemed to have been laid bare; many hidden thoughts had found a reasonable explanation.

"Kneel," Mo Hua said.

Red Colt was startled, but still instinctively obeyed Mo Hua's words and knelt down.

Mo Hua placed his hand on Red Colt's forehead and said in a gentle voice, "All these thoughts of yours are right."

"Your father would have led the tribe to destruction."

"And you will let the Cloud-Chasing Tribe survive in these troubled times."

"Steady your resolve, shoulder the responsibility you ought to shoulder, and devote yourself to your tribe."

Red Colt's expression gradually steadied, but a trace of hesitation remained. "But… am I truly qualified to be chieftain?"

Mo Hua said, "If you were not qualified, the Divine Lord would not have chosen you."

"The Divine Lord chose you, which proves you have the measure for it."

"What you must do is follow the Divine Lord's guidance—in the midst of confusion, overcome all your hesitation and weakness, and lead the tribe forward with unwavering resolve…"

Mo Hua's voice was calm and steady.

On Chi Ju's face appeared a trace of reverence and faith.

He knelt on the ground, bowing his head to the earth, and paid three bows to Mo Hua:

"Chi Ju understands. Thank you, Lord Wuzhu, for your guidance. I will do my utmost to be a good chief and not betray the Divine Lord's trust."

Mo Hua nodded, his gaze filled with satisfaction.

……

When leaving the Zhuiyun Tribe, everything had been settled.

After undergoing a strange, peculiar, yet bloodless and casualty-free "coup," the Zhuiyun Tribe became Mo Hua's "followers."

The ordinary Zhuiyun tribesmen, knowing almost nothing, began raising horses for Mo Hua.

Of course, they were all ordinary barbarian cultivators and had no need to know anything—so long as they could live in peace.

And Mo Hua gained a deeper understanding of certain spiritual insight mysteries:

The Dao Heart Seed Demon technique involves using demonic methods to impose one's intentions upon another's consciousness.

But I, by observing the human heart, awaken desires already present within, thereby aligning them with my own purpose.

It is not planting from outside to inside, but drawing forth from inside to outside.

Rooted in my uncle's Dao, I walk my own path.

This is another form of "Dao Heart Seed Demon"—completely opposite…

(End of Chapter)