Chapter 1269: Witch Vulture God

Inside the witch-priest's secret chamber, solemn and silent, incense smoke curled gently from the censer.

Mo Hua sat upright in the center, having laid down layers of arrays across the walls and the vast floor beneath him.

Like a spider's web, dense and intricate, they shielded him at the core, cutting off all surveillance and scheming.

Outside the chamber, Lord Lugu, Seeing Dan Zhu, Chifeng, and a group of Jin Dan cultivators—Mo Hua's most trusted allies in the Great Wilderness—led a contingent of deep-bone armored barbarian soldiers, standing guard with iron discipline.

No one was permitted to enter the chamber or disturb his seclusion without Mo Hua's explicit order.

It was a death sentence.

Mo Hua's tone was severe, even invoking the title of "Divine Lord" to intimidate the petty thieves.

Because this "feeding" was truly different.

It was the key to whether he could advance to the Jin Dan realm, and whether he could make further progress on the Path of Divine Thought.

Mo Hua closed his eyes and sat in meditation.

Inside the chamber, silence as deep as death.

Yet within his mind sea, Mo Hua had already begun his "feast."

The Great Witch Vulture was an ancient barbarian deity; though its combat power seemed unimpressive, its divine essence was considerable.

Moreover, its divine arts were by no means weak—only that Mo Hua possessed unique advantages and methods far too potent.

At this moment, a pure molten fire array burned with a "sizzling" sound on the ground.

Mo Hua sat cross-legged, gripping a golden sword forged from divine thought, slowly slicing off the black mental energy of the Great Witch Vulture and roasting it over the flame.

When the energy darkened, then faded to white, and the roasting reached perfect readiness, Mo Hua opened his mouth and let out a "Aowu!" as he swallowed the roasted mental energy whole.

Thus, he roasted and ate, back and forth.

As he ate, the tension on his face gradually melted into an expression of serene ease.

He hadn't tasted such succulent "divine thought" in a long time.

He'd forgotten when he last ate such a meal.

Yet just as Mo Hua leisurely devoured slice after slice of "roasted god,"

A thin strand of divine thought, hidden and silent, detached itself from the Great Witch Vulture's "body," slithered to a corner of Mo Hua's mind sea, gradually solidified, then decayed into a wisp of black mist, sprouting a sliver of rotting flesh and a nearly transparent black feather flickering in and out of view.

Then, this strand began to take root—like a hair fallen unnoticed on the ground, or a blade of grass clinging to a cliffside crevice, parasitizing within the solid rock.

But after struggling for a long while, he found this mind sea impossibly unyielding.

Even with His divine thought cultivation, He could not pry open a single fissure to establish His parasitism.

This mind sea was too solid—not like a human's.

Even less like the mind sea of any "flesh-and-blood living being."

He grew angry, yet refused to give up; the black threads of death and decay still strained desperately against the mind walls.

Just then, a clear voice rang out: "Maybe… just give up?"

The black strand trembled, like a thief caught in the act, not daring to stir.

He didn't know if the boy was speaking to Him, nor dared to respond.

Mo Hua, still chewing on "god-meat," murmured indifferently: "Come out. You're drilling into my mind sea—don't you know it itches?"

Itch?

The black thought-thread quivered again, unsure whether it was rage or humiliation.

Then, a flash of black light—death and decay energy broke its seal, pouring forth like flesh, bone, and sinew, slowly reforming into a young man with the body of an eagle, draped in Witch Vulture feathers, his face handsome yet stern, eyes gloomy, skin unnaturally pale.

The boy stared fixedly at Mo Hua.

Mo Hua, still eating His "flesh," turned his head and glanced at Him, slightly surprised:

"Is this your divine avatar?"

Divine beings have many kinds of avatars.

There is the full manifestation—the true divine body—unleashed in mortal combat.

And there are human-like avatars used when walking among mortals.

Mo Hua's old friend, Huang Shanjun, was just such a case.

His human-like avatar was the depressed, broken, wretched mountain lord in the shrine.

His true divine form was a towering, mountain-sized Yellow Immortal, majestic and awe-inspiring.

Most deities, unless in life-or-death battle, appear in semi-human avatars, for deities feed on human incense and derive their power from mortal faith.

Thus, many deities carry within their divinity a trace of "humanity."

These subtle details of divine knowledge Mo Hua had personally discovered, by becoming a deity himself.

Only those who had never been a god could possibly not know this.

The Witch Vulture God, now taking the form of a gloomy, half-human, half-eagle youth, stared at Mo Hua and rasped:

"Just what… are you?"

Mo Hua, still chewing the Witch Vulture God's "flesh," mumbled: "I told you—I'm the Divine Lord."

The Great Witch Vulture sneered, "Don't think I've never seen a Divine Lord…"

Mo Hua stopped chewing, his expression startled, then his eyes lit up: "You've actually met the Lord of the Great Wilderness?"

"When did you meet Him?"

"How many years ago?"

"What did the Lord of the Great Wilderness look like? Ugly? What realm was He in? Was He strong? Did He die completely? Where is He now?"

Mo Hua fired off question after question in rapid succession.

The Witch Vulture God only sneered: "You know nothing—and yet you dare call yourself the Divine Lord?"

Mo Hua waved his hand: "That's different. The Lord of the Great Wilderness was the former 'Divine Lord.' I am the current one."

Mo Hua's words clearly struck the Wu Jiao Shen's "forbidden point."

"To profane the name of the Divine Lord, you seek death!"

The Wu Jiao Shen's gaze sharpened; he let out a sudden roar, his powerful mental force surging, divine power flooding his entire body.

Upon his wings, the stench of death and decay reignited; the entire deity radiated terrifying majesty, making mortal beings unable to gaze upon him directly.

The Great Wu Jiao Shen spoke with cold, stern authority: "Today, I shall make you pay, so you will know..."

Mo Hua charged forward and punched him—right then and there, the Wu Jiao Shen was knocked flat.

"Who are you trying to fool in front of me?" Mo Hua said irritably.

The Wu Jiao Shen clearly refused to submit; he struggled, trying to say something more.

Mo Hua straddled him, tore off his wings, pressed his head into the ground, raised his small fist—the size of a mortar—and pounded him again and again, beating him black and blue.

As he beat him, Mo Hua muttered:

"Still pretending? Still pretending..."

The Wu Jiao Shen was utterly broken; he no longer dared to boast, abandoned the dignity of a deity, felt helpless, and was so furious he nearly spat blood...

The laws of the Dao sometimes make not the slightest sense.

This damned place, Dahuang, either has a decaying divine path, filled with a basketful of weak, pitiful gods, where every weak demon and monster dares call itself a god.

Or suddenly, heaven and earth are overturned, and a "Little Demon God" emerges—outside the Five Phases, his divine power so immense it defies comprehension, even capable of swallowing gods whole.

Doesn't Heaven's Dao do anything to balance the power in this place?

Either absurdly weak, or impossibly strong.

The Great Wu Jiao Shen, who had reigned unchallenged for thousands of years since the Divine Lord vanished, truly felt like his dog had been kicked.

But there was no choice—being a god meant knowing when to bend and when to stretch.

Before mortals, one must be sacred and majestic, one decree heavier than nine tripods.

Before stronger divine monsters, one must bow low, swallow one's anger, endure in silence.

The Great Wu Jiao Shen immediately said: "Little Divine Lord, this... I was wrong..."

Mo Hua lowered his fist and asked him: "Really know your mistake?"

The Wu Jiao Shen nodded, dared not pretend ignorance.

Mo Hua nodded too, temporarily letting the Wu Jiao Shen off: "Good. Then I ask you—tell me truthfully..."

"Yes." The Wu Jiao Shen answered honestly.

Mo Hua asked: "Have you truly seen the Lord of Dahuang?"

The Great Wu Jiao Shen looked at Mo Hua: "You, Little Divine Lord, are the Lord of Dahuang."

Mo Hua's face turned cold: "Not you, this 'Lord of Dahuang'—the previous one. Don't try to fool me."

The Great Wu Jiao Shen sighed helplessly: "I have seen him."

"How many years ago?" Mo Hua asked.

The Great Wu Jiao Shen shook his head; seeing Mo Hua's displeased expression, he hurriedly added:

"I truly can't remember—the gods know no years, and with offerings fluctuating according to the strength of faith, I am sometimes awake, sometimes dazed. I cannot recall exact years, but roughly, thousands of years ago, I once met the Divine Lord..."

Mo Hua asked again: "What did the Divine Lord look like?"

"This..." The Great Wu Jiao Shen hesitated. "Unlike me, a new god, the Divine Lord was a true 'Ancient God,' ancient beyond measure, his origin too profound, his incarnations countless, his divine form ever-changing. What I saw was only one aspect among many... I vaguely recall: the Divine Lord had a human body with ram's horns, a face of white bone, and an aura terrifyingly powerful..."

In the wilds, the Great Wu Jiao Shen was one of the last surviving "ancient" deities.

Yet before the Lord of Dahuang, he could only call himself "newly ascended," as if he were merely a young junior.

The gulf between gods and mortals in terms of age was plain to see.

And the Divine Lord's appearance described by the Great Wu Jiao Shen matched precisely the white-bone demonic statue Mo Hua had seen in Qianxue Prefecture.

"Then... why did the Lord of Dahuang suddenly vanish from Dahuang's history?" Mo Hua asked curiously.

He had wondered about this for a long time.

The Great Wu Jiao Shen frowned deeply—he was not entirely certain: "The Divine Lord was an 'Ancient God.' Many secrets are beyond the reach of gods like me. But when the Divine Lord vanished suddenly, there were indeed many strange things..."

Mo Hua pressed: "What was strange?"

The Great Wu Jiao Shen spoke solemnly: "I... I can't quite say..."

Mo Hua raised his fist, his gaze hostile.

The Great Wu Jiao Shen hurriedly said: "It's not that I won't speak—it's that..."

The Great Wu Jiao Shen's expression turned bitter: "Some secrets of the divine path—if they're vague, if I can't articulate them—it means some unknowable force is concealing them, preventing you from knowing. I am merely a tribal god who gained a bit of Dao and has some seniority—not a true ancient deity. Some things, I simply lack the ability to probe."

Mo Hua frowned slightly; he found his reasoning plausible.

Sometimes, heavenly secrets are obscured—cannot be spoken of, or great disaster will follow.

Before true catastrophe, even gods are not safe.

"Then the Divine Lord... according to your 'guess'..."

Mo Hua stressed the word "guess" very heavily: "What reason might he have vanished for?"

This was a highly sensitive question.

The Great Wu Jiao Shen thought for a moment, then slowly spoke:

"Over these years, I've often pondered this question..."

"The Divine Lord... may have had his origin sealed by some great being's technique."

"Or perhaps he was gravely wounded by a great enemy and fell into slumber..."

"Or even forcibly erased by some unknowable, mighty force—changed from 'life' to 'death'..."

"Of course, these are merely my speculations."

"The affairs of the divine path—seen from outside, are ethereal and insubstantial; seen from within, are perilous beyond measure. Anything could have happened..."

Mo Hua nodded and stopped pressing for answers.

Whether god or human, all see only the world as it appears in their own eyes.

The matter of the Lord of Da Huang could never be simple, and he never expected to get the truth from the Great Witch Vulture God.

Moreover, Mo Hua had not forgotten that he still had the most important task ahead.

Mo Hua thought for a moment, then said to the Great Witch Vulture God: "Your mental force contains your divine origin will, doesn't it?"

The Great Witch Vulture God's expression changed. "How do you know that?"

Mo Hua thought: Of course I know—I've eaten so many gods.

Mo Hua added: "Separate your own will from your mental force—leave not a trace behind. Dust to dust, earth to earth. Mental force is mental force; will is will. Keep them utterly distinct, with not the slightest mixture—or I'll erase your will, and don't blame me later…"

The Great Witch Vulture God's pupils shrank slightly, then he smiled faintly. "How could you possibly have the means to erase my will?"

Mo Hua asked: "Want to try?"

The Great Witch Vulture God was about to say, "Fine, let's try," but after thinking, he decided against it.

Now was the time to submit and endure—not the time to lord over others as before.

"Enough…"

The Great Witch Vulture God sighed inwardly and said: "I'll do as you say."

Then the Great Witch Vulture God stepped before his own massive divine body, severed and retained by Mo Hua, and activated his mental force to extract all his origin will, merging it into himself.

This process was extremely painful.

The Great Witch Vulture God's heart bled.

He understood clearly what Mo Hua intended to do—and his divine mental force, cultivated with immense difficulty, would now become pure cultivation "energy" once the origin will was stripped away, the most "succulent" bait for a being like Mo Hua, who devours gods.

Mo Hua felt a quiet thrill.

A god's will can be erased by calamity lightning.

But during that process, mental force is inevitably lost.

Now, with the Twenty-Four Patterns imminent, every speck of mental force was precious.

Mo Hua didn't want to waste any, so he used verbal "intimidation and inducement" instead of calamity lightning's "sterilization," forcing the Great Witch Vulture God to peel away his own will.

As a result, the remaining mental force would naturally be greater.

Time was tight and the opportunity rare—Mo Hua had to squeeze every last drop of mental force.

After forcing the Great Witch Vulture God to "extract" his own mental force,

Mo Hua's mind sea instantly swelled with an immense volume of mental force, and he felt a surge of quiet excitement.

The next problem was how to "relocate" the Great Witch Vulture God…

His mental force was gone, but his origin and divine status remained.

Letting him go was out of the question.

These things couldn't be eaten either.

After a brief thought, Mo Hua said to the Great Witch Vulture God: "Come with me."

The Great Witch Vulture God didn't understand, but he was the meat on the chopping block—he dared not defy Mo Hua.

Mo Hua led the Great Witch Vulture God across a long suspension bridge into a grand hall.

Inside the hall, gold and jade shimmered brilliantly.

In the center of the hall sat a divine beast—massive-bodied, huge-headed, majestic and imposing, radiating an aura of solemn power—the Great Pixiu.

Mo Hua brought the Great Witch Vulture God into the divine hall where the Da Huang Sacred Artifact was sealed.

The Great Witch Vulture God was stunned.

Especially when he saw the Great Pixiu.

The Great Witch Vulture God pointed at the Great Pixiu, face filled with disbelief, voice trembling: "This sacred Great Pixiu… how could it be here?"

"This Great Pixiu…"

Mo Hua froze.

This Great Witch Vulture God knew this Great Pixiu? Knew its origin?