Chapter 699: Sword

Outside the Blood Refining Arena, before the River God Temple.

Mo Hua opened his eyes.

His Qi and spiritual sense were both completely depleted, but his spiritual sense foundation was too profound, so in this brief moment, he had already recovered somewhat.

His Qi, however, recovered much more slowly.

Mo Hua swallowed several pills to nurture his Qi, then sat in meditation to restore his spiritual sense.

Residual stinging remained in his mind sea.

This was damage inflicted on his mind sea from forcibly using Heavenly Mechanism Deceit Calculations, dividing multiple deceitful thoughts.

He divided his spiritual sense into three deceitful thoughts and deployed four layers of spiritual sense to form an array, increasing speed several-fold.

But at the same time, his spiritual sense consumption also increased several-fold, and in an instant, he exhausted his entire spiritual sense.

He was merely at the early Foundation Establishment realm, yet possessed sixteen-stripe transformed spiritual sense, far surpassing peers of the same realm.

Yet Mo Hua still felt a sense of "spiritual sense utterly insufficient."

Mo Hua sighed.

If his spiritual sense were strong enough, he might truly use arrays like spells—single thought birthing hundreds or thousands, calculating multiple deceitful paths simultaneously, instantly forming a killing array.

In moments of crisis, it could turn the tide.

It would just consume a great deal of Spirit Ink and Spirit Stones, a bit "money-burning."

And it seemed that transformed spiritual thought also benefited "deceitful thought division."

Deceitful thought division was equivalent to forcibly splitting spiritual sense to conduct multi-pronged deceitful calculations, placing enormous strain on the mind sea.

Originally, he could only produce one deceitful thought.

Just now, he pushed himself to the limit and managed to produce one more.

Only because he had recently devoured the "Spirit Marrow," further transforming his spiritual sense and solidifying his foundation, could he push beyond his limit and produce one additional deceitful thought.

Three deceitful thoughts in total.

His Heavenly Mechanism Deceit Calculations were now two levels stronger than before.

But he didn't know whether Master Uncle's "Heavenly Mechanism Deceit Calculations" measured realm by the number of deceitful thoughts one could divide.

"Master Uncle never told me…"

Mo Hua muttered to himself, then couldn't help but wonder.

He could produce three deceitful thoughts—what about Master Uncle? If he unleashed his full power, how many deceitful thoughts could he divide?

The scene of Master Uncle implanting the Demon Seed into his heart-mind, appearing in his mind sea to solve the Great Heavenly Array, flashed back into Mo Hua's mind—thousands of deceitful shadows.

Thousands of deceitful shadows…

Mo Hua was stunned.

Clearly, Master Uncle was incredibly strong!

His mere three deceitful thoughts paled beside Master Uncle's swarm-like, densely packed shadows.

"No wonder he's Master Uncle!"

Mo Hua nodded inwardly.

But then another doubt arose.

He had consumed Spirit Marrow, transforming his spiritual sense, to endure the agony of deceitful calculation and soul-splitting, barely managing three deceitful thoughts.

Then how did Master Uncle manage to divide so many, densely packed, countless deceitful thoughts?

Had Master Uncle's spiritual sense undergone some kind of "transformation" or "conversion"?

Or did Heavenly Mechanism Deceit Calculations possess a deeper "Deceitful Soul Division" technique that Master Uncle hadn't taught him?

No, no…

Master Uncle never intended to teach him—how could he blame Master Uncle?

He could only blame himself for being insufficiently clever, failing to learn the essence of Deceit Dao from Master Uncle.

Mo Hua sighed.

Life is finite, yet the Dao is infinite.

It seemed he must strive harder.

Mo Hua gathered his composure, preparing to resume meditation and restore his spiritual sense, but finally, an idea surfaced unbidden.

"Spiritual thought division…"

Mo Hua frowned.

He remembered Huang Shanjun saying that powerful deities could divide into thousands.

Demons too—the corpse of the Great Wilds Demon God, that golden demonic eye, had said, "The Great Wilds are endless, countless divine corpses," implying the Lord of the Great Wilds had already divided countless "divine corpses."

Deities can divide.

Deceit Dao can divide too…

Mo Hua's heart trembled.

Could this technique of Heavenly Mechanism Deceit Calculations—the method of deceitful thought division—have been created by mimicking the deity's method of division?

Deities divide spiritual thought into divine corpses; cultivators divide spiritual sense into deceitful thoughts.

Could deceitful thoughts then be regarded as a kind of "divine corpse"?

Was he, in dividing deceitful thoughts, actually dividing "divine corpses"?

Mo Hua was startled by his own thought.

He pondered further and realized dividing "deceitful thoughts" and dividing "divine corpses" were still different—after all, one was a cultivator's technique, the other a deity's innate ability.

Yet in essence, the more he thought, the more similar they seemed.

But there was no way to verify it.

He couldn't possibly run up to his Senior Uncle or the Great Wilderness Evil God and ask them about the differences between obsession-thoughts and divine remains.

One would kill him instantly and turn him into a "little puppet."

The other would devour him outright and refine him into a "little divine servant."

Mo Hua couldn't help but shiver and shook his head.

Forget it, maybe I'll bring it up later.

Mo Hua buried the thought deep in his heart, planning to ponder it slowly later, or perhaps ask his old friend Huang Shanjun when he had time.

But now, by a twist of fate, Mo Hua had, through his own efforts, stumbled upon new insights into advancing his divine thought.

The more divine marrow he consumed, the deeper the transformation of his divine awareness, the more obsession-thoughts he could split, and the stronger his heavenly mechanism guile-calculation became.

The more abundant his divine awareness, the more solid the foundation supporting his guile-calculation.

Whether it was divination, array formation, or spellcasting, his speed would increase accordingly.

In all under heaven, speed breaks all defenses.

It seemed the same held true for arrays and other methods.

As long as you were fast enough, you could strike first and seize the initiative.

If fast enough to the extreme, you could deny the enemy even a breath's respite—unending assaults, never letting them escape your turn!

"Divine marrow…"

Mo Hua looked up at the river god temple before him and instinctively licked his lips.

Then he calmed his emotions, pretending nothing had happened, and settled into meditation to restore his state to peak condition.

The others were all seated in meditation, adjusting their qi and taking medicine to heal their wounds.

The breakout from the demon stronghold had been perilous beyond measure, but thankfully, though injured, all were unharmed—narrowly escaping disaster.

The two black-robed men used as "offerings" were covered in wounds, but such traffickers had committed countless atrocities, their hands soaked in blood; keeping them alive was enough, and no one cared about them.

After the group had rested, Mo Hua's divine awareness and spiritual power had largely recovered, and they set off toward the river god temple.

Before reaching the temple, Mo Hua froze, his expression shifting slightly.

"Sword intent?"

He looked around and saw the temple's front covered in deep sword scars, as if a swordsman had once fought a desperate battle here.

The ground was crisscrossed with sword marks, and several Shi Zhu pillars before the temple bore traces of being severed by sword qi.

Even after hundreds of years, traces of sword intent still lingered.

Clearly, this swordsman's skill must have been extraordinary.

And to have slain his way alone, with a single sword, to the very doorstep of this evil god's temple, his divine awareness must have been immensely powerful.

Mo Hua's eyes lit up; he studied each sword scar, his divine awareness stirring slightly as he carefully perceived the intent within.

Unfortunately, these sword intents seemed to have been corrupted and tainted—what remained was impure.

Mo Hua, a half-baked swordsman, could not comprehend them at all.

Let alone learn even a single technique or move.

Mo Hua felt regret, yet also frustration.

"Should I try a divination?"

Mo Hua silently thought to himself, then applied what he'd just learned, once again amplifying his heavenly mechanism derivation-calculation with heavenly mechanism guile-calculation.

His eyes turned pitch black; atop his divine awareness avatar, obsession-shadows began to split off.

The obsession-shadows resembled ink-dyed dao robes, draping over Mo Hua.

One layer, two layers…

Mo Hua tried to split a third layer, but when he reached two, his dantian began to ache again—his earlier injuries hadn't fully healed—so he settled for two obsession-thoughts, barely making do.

With two layers of obsession-thoughts enhancing him, under the heavenly mechanism derivation-calculation.

A flash of light appeared before Mo Hua's eyes; karmic threads suddenly surfaced, intertwining and rising and sinking.

This time, the karmic threads were clearer than ever before.

Thin strands of pure white karmic threads emerged from the ground's sword scars, all flowing together toward the interior of the river god temple.

Mo Hua's heart trembled.

Did this mean the sword intent's method was hidden inside the river god temple?

Mo Hua no longer hesitated; he walked straight toward the temple. Before entering, he turned back and warned:

"That old bastard is probably inside too—everyone be careful."

The group nodded.

Before the temple stood two black lacquered gold-inscribed gate pillars, inscribed with phrases like "Wind, Rain, and Seasons in Harmony" and "Peace on River and Marsh."

But the pillars were riddled with sword slashes, the characters now illegible.

Above them hung a plaque bearing three large characters: "River God Temple."

Mo Hua swept his divine awareness over the entrance, frowned slightly, then stepped inside.

Inside, he immediately saw the main hall.

The hall was empty, devoid of anything—only in the far center stood an altar, upon which rested a statue of the River God.

The statue had a fish's face and a human body, clad in a dao robe embroidered with cloud and ocean waves, hands clasped before its chest, mouth gaping like a bloodied pit, teeth stark white, seated high and imposing, its gaze stern and terrifying.

Beneath the statue lay a pool of blood.

The blood was thick, submerging a human figure—it was Master She.

His current form was grotesque: half demon, half cultivator.

The blood in the pool continuously repaired his flesh.

The group's expressions hardened, and they all frowned.

Master She soaked in bloodwater, hearing the commotion, opened his eyes, saw the group, and with a startled expression, rasped:

"You actually made it here?"

Master She gave a cold, sinister smile and slowly stepped out of the blood pool.

His wounds, nourished by the bloodwater, had fully healed; at the same time, his body gradually grew taller, muscles bulged, and he transformed back into a demon.

"My injuries are restored. Next, I'm going to make you…"

Mo Hua waved his hand.

Gu An and the others immediately rushed forward, blades, fists, and kicks raining down—dozens of exchanges later, they knocked Master She back to the ground and bound him tightly with Spirit-Binding Chains, pinning him down.

Mo Hua sneered.

This old bastard isn't Huo Fotuo—he just learned a few demonic techniques. What's he playing at?

"I brought the offering. The two children are here. Didn't you say you'd pray to the River God to exchange the offering?"

Mo Hua looked down and said: "Hurry up and swap!"

Yu Dahe's expression grew tense.

Master She, pinned to the ground by several Gu family giants, shed his demonic skin and sneered: "Too late. No saving you. Just wait to die."

Mo Hua said calmly: "Little An, kill this old bastard."

Gu An hesitated a moment, glancing questioningly at Mo Hua.

Mo Hua nodded. "Kill him!"

Gu An no longer hesitated. He raised his cleaver and slashed at Master She's neck—the blade sank halfway, tearing through flesh and spilling blood.

Only then did Master She turn pale, screaming at Mo Hua: "You're serious?!"

Mo Hua ignored him.

Gu An kept pushing, driving the blade deeper into his neck.

Master She widened his eyes and cried: "I can save them! I can save them! I'll set up the altar! Those two children—set up the altar and they can be brought back!"

Mo Hua raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

"Really! Really!" Master She nodded frantically.

Mo Hua gave Gu An a look. Gu An stopped, pulled the blade free, and blood sprayed out.

Master She clutched his neck, seething inwardly.

This little brat's heart is truly ruthless—he just drops the kill without warning.

"Are you thinking bad things about me?" Mo Hua's expression turned icy.

Master She shuddered, shaking his head frantically: "No! No!"

"Give him a pill to stop the bleeding," Mo Hua said, then fixed Master She with a cold gaze. "I give you one incense stick's time. Set up the altar, beg your River God to return those children's souls—or I'll have you chopped to pieces and thrown outside to feed the demons."

Master She hesitated: "One incense stick isn't enough…"

Mo Hua's gaze turned dangerous.

Master She grimaced: "Truly not enough—it takes time to set up the altar, perform the sacrifice, and summon the deity. One incense stick won't do."

"Then how long?"

"At least…" Master She muttered, "half an hour."

"Fine." Mo Hua nodded. "I give you half an hour."

Master She finally exhaled in relief.

"My storage bag…" Master She glanced at Mo Hua again, saw his hostile expression, and hurried to explain: "All the items for setting up the altar and sacrifice are inside."

Mo Hua thought for a moment, then said to Gu An: "Little An, give him back his storage bag—for now."

Gu An nodded and returned Master She's storage bag.

But all the demonic pills, cultivation methods, and evil artifacts inside were confiscated.

Master She took the storage bag and began setting up the altar.

A fish demon's skull, blood-dripping candles, human hand bones, bloodstained yellow cloth…

All strange, sinister objects.

As he placed them on the offering table, he stole glances at Mo Hua, cursing inwardly:

Damn it. I misjudged him.

I thought this brat was just a spoiled, arrogant noble brat here to steal merit.

Turns out he's a little Yama with a heart of iron.

The wound on his neck burned fiercely.

A flash of venom passed through Master She's eyes; he endured the pain and continued preparing the altar.

Mo Hua, meanwhile, used this time to examine the entire River God Temple.

The temple looked spacious and solemn, yet strangely crude.

Inside, it appeared ordinary—nothing like the terrifying blood mist outside, as if the bloody signs they'd seen were just illusions.

And there was no altar.

Mo Hua stared for a long time but found no true altar that stirred his "desire."

Like the unfinished altar deep within the Bishan Demon Palace.

Only a statue remained.

But the statue looked ordinary—not the River God's true divine image, nor a demonic preaching idol.

The only odd thing: the statue was submerged in the blood pool.

Mo Hua looked down at the blood pool and saw thick, viscous blood, with limbs and dissolved flesh floating within.

One glance made him feel violently nauseous.

"What is this blood pool, soaked in the statue's blood, used for?"

To pollute the River God with flesh and blood, causing him to fall?

Mo Hua was slightly confused.

He looked up again, scanning the surroundings, sweeping his gaze across the entire River God Temple, and faintly had the illusion that someone had locked it here.

The true secrets of the River God Temple had been locked away, hidden from his view.

Mo Hua silently glanced at She Dashi.

He had a hunch that the key to unlocking the Temple's secrets was likely hidden on She Dashi himself.

Moreover, there was another question: the transformation of spiritual sense into a sword.

Several hundred years ago, that sword cultivator who mastered the Spiritual Sense Sword Art came alone here, seemingly fought a battle with the evil god, leaving sword marks scattered across the ground outside the temple.

And the karmic traces within those sword marks had all gathered within the River God Temple.

Yet inside this temple, though dilapidated and humble, there were no signs of battle, nor any lingering sword intent from the Spiritual Sense Sword Art.

"Where is the karmic trace of the Spiritual Sense Sword hidden?"

Mo Hua walked with his hands behind his back, tracing along the wall, circling the entire River God Temple, yet found no clues, and finally turned his gaze to She Dashi.

She Dashi felt a chill at Mo Hua's deep, inscrutable gaze.

"L-Little Young Master, is there... something amiss?"

She Dashi asked with a forced smile.

Mo Hua fell silent for a moment, then suddenly asked:

"Is there a sword in this temple?"

She Dashi was utterly shocked, but quickly calmed his emotions, his face expressionless as he asked, "What sword... are you referring to, Little Young Master?"

Yet his subtle emotional fluctuation could not possibly hide from Mo Hua.

"You know."

She Dashi's pupils trembled.

Before She Dashi could answer, Mo Hua's eyes brightened, lost in thought: "You know this sword..."

"Then you've seen it..."

"The sword is in the temple, hidden somewhere you've been, but I haven't..."

Mo Hua's gaze swept across the room, and in an instant, he understood.

"The blood pool!"

"The only place in the entire River God Temple that you've entered and I haven't is the blood pool..."

"When we entered, you were already inside the blood pool."

"So the sword is in the blood pool!"

Mo Hua spoke with clear logic and sharp eyes.

She Dashi's heart turned cold.

Extraordinarily clever, almost demonic.

This brat, how is he like some ancient demon with seven openings in his heart, sharp-witted and suspicious...

Mo Hua ordered: "Go into the blood pool and retrieve the sword for me."

She Dashi's lips trembled, about to speak, when Mo Hua cut in with a crisp, icy voice: "I don't want excuses."

She Dashi's scalp prickled: "I still have to perform the sacrifice to save that..."

"The blood pool isn't deep; it won't waste much time," Mo Hua said.

Seeing he couldn't evade it, She Dashi sighed:

"At the bottom of the blood pool, there is indeed a sword sealed there, but I don't know how to retrieve it..."

Mo Hua shook his head: "I don't care. Figure it out yourself."

She Dashi wanted to say more, but Mo Hua's eyes had already revealed a sharp edge.

She Dashi felt as if needles pricked his back, sighed, and stepped toward the blood pool.

Gu An and Gu Quan held their blades, watching him intently.

Inside the blood pool, unknown flesh and limbs had dissolved, thick with blood and filth.

Ordinary cultivators entering it might have their bodies corroded, their spiritual energy polluted, or even their spiritual sense corrupted.

But She Dashi, having turned to the dark path, feared none of this.

She Dashi silently cursed Mo Hua a few times in his heart, then walked to the edge of the blood pool soaked with the statue and leapt in, sinking to the bottom.

The blood pool churned, its aura trembling.

After a while, She Dashi reluctantly emerged from the blood pool, tossing a blood-splattered sword onto the ground.

Gu Quan pulled out a silk cloth, wiped away the blood, and handed the sword to Mo Hua.

Mo Hua stared at it, pupils contracting.

It was a broken sword, retaining only a small portion of the tip; its blade had been corroded by blood, dull and lifeless, yet its material was extraordinary.

Though Mo Hua was not skilled in forging, he had some knowledge of forging materials.

The metal used to forge this sword was at least third grade.

That meant this was a broken...

Jin Dan realm's life-bound treasure!

(End of Chapter)