Chapter 1248

A towering "Undead," half-skeleton and half-rotting flesh, groped through the darkness until it reached a sacrificial altar.

This altar, like the one outside, mirrored its layout in distant harmony—it was a Qin Zimu Altar.

And this Undead was none other than an ancestor of the Shu Gu clan.

It lit the altar, and under the eerie green ghost flames, it groped for a familiar compass, crafted from white bone and inscribed with mysterious beast patterns.

A flicker of nostalgia crossed the Shu Gu ancestor's face.

Though covered in rotting flesh, the expression was indiscernible.

Then it activated the compass, anchoring its own karmic threads to prevent even a trace of life force from leaking and drawing heavenly retribution.

Afterward, it closed its eyes, and when it opened them again, it stood within a grand hall of white bone.

This was the Divine Mind Hall, meticulously forged over generations by the Shu Gu ancestors through their spiritual essences.

Its fleshly body had long died, temporarily sealed within a white-bone death coffin.

If it wished to act further, it could only exert influence through the Dream Realm, manipulating the mortal world via karmic threads.

It had no desire to do so—its very existence was forbidden to the light, and excessive action was unwise.

Do more, err more; do less, err less; do nothing, err not at all.

Worse still, it might disrupt the natural order of life and death, summoning unknown "Great Horrors."

But it had no choice:

The blood covenant of its descendants remained active—since a Great Chief had died, offering his heart, and sacrifices had called upon it with their lives,

It could not avoid appearing.

This lineage required descendants.

Without descendant blood, it could not be awakened; once awakened, it must act for its progeny.

The Shu Gu ancestor entered the white-bone hall and looked up to see Tie Shu Gu, stabbed through the heart with a dagger, kneeling before him.

Tie Shu Gu was now bound by chains of white bone.

He had willingly offered his life to become a "living offering," awakening the ancestor.

"Knowing Old Ancestor has lain buried so long and grown hungry, you bring yourself to be eaten—how filial of you—"

The Shu Gu ancestor nodded.

He turned his head toward a "Blood Curse" covenant scroll.

This was the life-offering gift from Tie Shu Gu, recording details of the target to be cursed.

The Shu Gu ancestor glanced at it—and froze.

"Mr. Wu, seemingly in his twenties, actual cultivation age unknown—Foundation Establishment late stage?"

The Shu Gu ancestor turned back to look at the "life-giver," Tie Shu Gu, and thought:

A Jin Dan came to die, knocking on my ancestor's coffin to wake me, just to kill a Foundation Establishment cultivator?

Have my Shu Gu descendants sunk to this level of incompetence?

The Shu Gu ancestor could not tell whether his own eyes had rotted and failed him, or whether his descendants' brains had rotted.

He truly wanted to pry open their skulls and check if there was even a speck of brain inside.

"One Great Chief dead, one Jin Dan sacrificed, me awakened—just for this?"

Anger surged within the Shu Gu ancestor.

But the blood covenant bound him—he had no choice but to comply. The Shu Gu ancestor suppressed his fury and began following protocol.

"Mr. Wu"

The Shu Gu ancestor murmured the name, seeking the karmic threads to cast the curse—but after searching long, he frowned.

"Not the true name?"

Even the surname and identity were wrong; the target could not be precisely identified.

The Shu Gu ancestor immediately realized: his descendants had been manipulated.

And thoroughly fooled—they didn't even know the name or title of the one they wished cursed.

Still, it was not all bad—

The blood covenant contained other details: the height, physique, behavior, and mannerisms of this "Mr. Wu."

Because Tie Shu Gu had lived long with Mo Hua and endured brutal torture at his hands, he knew Mo Hua well.

Clearly, Tie Shu Gu was unsure whether Mo Hua's true name was "Mr. Wu," so he provided many additional clues.

The title was mismatched, but the other details were sufficient to locate the karmic threads.

The Shu Gu ancestor's mastery over karmic threads was indeed profound.

This problem posed no obstacle to him.

The characters on the blood covenant began dissolving one by one, transforming into crimson karmic threads that unfurled before the Shu Gu ancestor.

After much calculation, he finally extracted several fatal karmic threads from the web.

He began his incantation, manipulating the threads, using his white-bone hands to sever the life-lines and bind all death-lines together.

Thus, this man's life force would be extinguished—every cause of his existence would henceforth lead to the effect of "death."

Any circumstance would inevitably trend toward "fatal."

This self-proclaimed "Mr. Wu," the Foundation Establishment cultivator, would be stricken by a curse—certain death was inevitable.

At first, all went smoothly.

The karmic threads—he had found them.

The life-lines—he had seemingly severed several.

But when he attempted to draw the death-lines toward the man's fate-pattern, he discovered a terrifying problem:

That is, upon this man's fate-pattern, a vast number of death-lines already seemed to have coalesced.

The Ancestor Shu Gu could not see or touch them, but merely by feeling, he knew these "death lines" were densely packed, countless beyond comprehension—compared to them, the few "death lines" he himself had added meant absolutely nothing.

The Ancestor Shu Gu's rotting eyeballs began to tremble.

"What is this? So many causes of death burdened upon one body, and yet still 'alive'? Can this even be a living person?"

If this is true, then what meaning does my "curse" still hold?

After pondering for a long while, the Ancestor Shu Gu suddenly noticed that the karmic threads in his hand were also trembling—as if someone on the other end was pulling them with force.

The Ancestor Shu Gu froze, then his expression changed drastically.

"Is something crawling along the karmic thread?!"

Can you even do this?

The Ancestor Shu Gu immediately tried to snap the karmic thread, but when he looked down, he saw a small, pale hand that had somehow reached in from outside.

That small, pale hand gripped the karmic thread tightly, and was slowly pulling itself toward this side.

The Ancestor Shu Gu's soul nearly fled his body—he was about to act, but realized it was already too late.

In but a moment, the dream twisted, and a figure crawled over from the other end of the karmic thread.

It appeared to be a "child," with skin like jade, lips red and teeth white, a spot of Jin Guang on its forehead, and eyes radiant with brilliance.

The Ancestor Shu Gu instantly sensed something was wrong.

Anything out of the ordinary must be demonic.

Something that could crawl along a karmic thread could not possibly be an ordinary being.

Moreover, this "child" was far too beautiful—beautiful in a way that made it seem utterly inhuman.

The Ancestor Shu Gu's eyes flashed; his right hand's white bone surged, transforming into a massive bone claw, ready to strike first and crush the "child."

But the massive bone claw, halfway down, was halted by a single fingertip of the pale small hand.

A single fingertip, as immovable as Dashan.

No matter how hard the Ancestor Shu Gu pushed with his spiritual sense, he could not advance an inch.

Yet the handsome, eerie child merely reversed his grip and yanked off the Ancestor Shu Gu's entire arm, twisting it lightly until the limb shattered into fragments.

The arm severed too quickly—the Ancestor Shu Gu had no time to react; he stood frozen in place, as if witnessing a ghost story, forgetting even the pain in his spiritual sense.

The child snapped off his arm, bit into the bone, spat it out with a "Pfft!"—as if it tasted foul. The Ancestor Shu Gu's heart turned cold. He turned his head, glanced at the iron Shu Gu who had sacrificed himself, and couldn't help thinking:

My descendants are truly "filial sons and virtuous grandsons"—willing to sacrifice their own lives just to send over a terrifying "monster" to torment their own ancestor.

They're treating their own ancestor like a fool.

The Ancestor Shu Gu cursed inwardly.

Yet the strange, handsome child did not kill him; instead, he circled around, found a high perch, sat down cross-legged, turned back to look at the Ancestor Shu Gu, and said in a clear voice:

"Let's talk?"

The Ancestor Shu Gu suppressed his anger and forced a friendly smile. "Of course—let's talk, let's talk—"

The White Bone Hall.

Mo Hua, in spiritual form, sat cross-legged atop the ancestral tablet of the Shu Gu clan's immortal, looking casual, as if he were the host.

The Ancestor Shu Gu sat below, tense and restrained, like a guest.

Mo Hua asked: "You are the ancestor of the Shu Gu clan?"

The Ancestor Shu Gu replied: "In a sense—"

Mo Hua glanced at him, seeing half his body was white bone, half decayed flesh—ugly in appearance—and felt disdain, then asked:

"How old are you?"

The Ancestor Shu Gu answered honestly: "This old one's lifespan—eight hundred years."

"Only eight hundred years? And you're an ancestor?" Mo Hua said.

The Ancestor Shu Gu said: "This old one's lifespan was eight hundred, but I died in ancient times—how many centuries have passed since then, I no longer know."

Mo Hua nodded.

The Ancestor Shu Gu raised his head, glanced at Mo Hua, and whispered: "Forgive me—how many years has your Dao cultivation spanned?"

"I'm two—" Mo Hua paused, then said seriously, "I'm over two hundred years old."

Over two hundred years—

The Ancestor Shu Gu stared at Mo Hua's spiritual form, his expression unmistakably stunned:

"At merely over two hundred years, you've cultivated such an unblemished Golden Body, a spiritual form returned to primordial purity? Friend—you are truly an unparalleled, once-in-a-millennium genius."

Mo Hua's expression was ambiguous; he mumbled: "It's alright—"

The Ancestor Shu Gu glanced again at Mo Hua, softly asking: "May I ask, how should I address this friend?"

Mo Hua said nothing, only silently regarded the Ancestor Shu Gu.

The Ancestor Shu Gu suddenly fell silent, like a frog chilled by frost.

Mo Hua said: "You may call me 'Mr. Wu.'"

The Ancestor Shu Gu smiled gently. "Yes—Mr. Wu."

Mo Hua no longer allowed him to probe into his own affairs; instead, he asked: "Your realm is only third-grade peak?"

The words "only" made the Ancestor Shu Gu feel uneasy.

But he still replied humbly: "Yes, merely third-grade peak."

Mo Hua pondered for a moment, then asked: "Are your Shu Gu clan ancestors truly all no higher than third grade?"

"This—" The Ancestor Shu Gu hesitated, then slowly said, "The wilderness is the 'commoner' land of the Great Wasteland—vast, with tribal settlements, but the Heavenly Dao's upper limit is low."

"Most mountain realms are third grade. Third grade is the absolute ceiling."

"Fourth grade exists only in the Imperial Courts, the royal courts guarded by kings, including the capital regions surrounding them."

"Only the ancient ancestral halls of the Great Wasteland are fifth-grade realms."

"Therefore, as long as you can't enter Wang Ting, the best you can do is reach third grade."

The Shu Gu ancestor spoke slowly.

Mo Hua was slightly startled.

He had truly never known about these things before.

Looking at it this way, the upper limit of Dahuang is truly far inferior to Qianzhou, let alone Daozhou.

The Three Thousand Wilds is a civilian zone, with a maximum of third grade.

Wang Ting is fourth grade; the Ancestral Hall is fifth grade.

This is even lower than what I had guessed before.

Is it because Dahuang lacks resources, and most wild cultivators have low cultivation levels, hence the low limit?

Or is it because the Heavenly Dao Array only grants Dahuang this upper limit, causing it to remain stuck at third or fourth grade for so long?

But...

Mo Hua looked at the Shu Gu ancestor. "You still haven't directly answered my question: does your Shu Gu clan have any ancestors above fourth grade, Nascent Soul?"

The Shu Gu ancestor felt his skull go numb; since he couldn't dodge it anymore, he sighed. "There are—some."

"Dead?"

"Dead."

"Where are they buried?"

The Shu Gu ancestor hesitated. "Some ancestors served the Wang Zu and earned merit; after death, they were buried in Wang Ting. Others were buried in—"

The Shu Gu ancestor pointed downward. "This White Bone Mausoleum."

Mo Hua said: "So, although this White Bone Mausoleum lies within the third-grade mountain realm, it indeed holds the remains of Shu Gu clan members who reached fourth grade, Nascent Soul."

The Shu Gu ancestor nodded. "Yes."

Mo Hua's gaze flickered. "Then why didn't they awaken?"

This is... fourth grade, Nascent Soul-level spiritual sense.

For some reason, the Shu Gu ancestor felt a chill in his heart, and he smiled bitterly.

"This is the third-grade mountain realm. Once one reaches Nascent Soul and dies, once buried, they cannot easily 'awaken' again. Otherwise, a single misstep might violate Heavenly Dao taboos, causing the entire White Bone Ancestral Mausoleum to vanish into ash."

Mo Hua nodded, showing understanding, then asked: "So, you're the one chosen to awaken and curse me?"

3

The Shu Gu ancestor fell silent.

If his flesh hadn't already rotted away, he would have been sweating cold sweat by now.

Mo Hua asked him again: "So, are you now truly 'dead' or 'alive'?"

The Shu Gu ancestor spoke slowly: "It's... half-dead, half-alive."

Mo Hua's tone grew colder. "Give me a clear answer."

The Shu Gu ancestor felt immense pressure and had no choice but to say:

"I am not 'alive.' I've merely preserved a thread of karmic connection, holding onto a sliver of vitality, nurturing my spiritual sense here. Occasionally, I can be awakened by the blood pact of descendants to perform a task—but I cannot see the light of day."

Mo Hua nodded, suppressing his inner emotional turmoil as much as possible, and asked it calmly:

"Then—can you truly come back to life?"

The Shu Gu ancestor paused, then sighed. "It's too difficult—and I've been buried too long. My flesh has rotted away, devoid of vitality. Once I leave this tomb, I have no means to sustain life or body. I will still die."

"The more terrifying thing is the Heavenly Dao—"

"All things in the world live and die—that is the Dao. If the Heavenly Dao discovers someone has used trickery to deceive it, extending their lifespan after their destined end, the backlash will be extremely fearsome."

The Shu Gu ancestor's tone was solemn.

Mo Hua fell silent. After a moment, he looked at the Shu Gu ancestor and spoke slowly:

"Suppose—just suppose—a person is dead, but his karmic thread is locked, his vitality no longer drains, and his body remains intact. If I find a way to deceive the Heavenly Dao, does that mean..."

Mo Hua carefully controlled his emotions. "... could he come back to life?"

The Shu Gu ancestor froze, turned his head to look at Mo Hua, a terrifying suspicion rising in his heart. His face changed color, eyes filled with dread.