Chapter 703: Slashing the God

Before the River God's temple.

Mo Hua's small frame stood opposite the towering, sinister River God, his aura undiminished.

Around him, all had become ruins—collapsed walls, broken pillars, the temple fallen into decay.

Most of the River God's temple had first been drowned by the River God's infinite Blood River technique, then utterly incinerated by Mo Hua's Divine Mind manifestation of the Li Huo Fu Array.

Amid the ruins, only the square where fish cultivators knelt in worship, and the great hall behind the River God, remained.

The River God's gaze toward Mo Hua held deep wariness.

Mo Hua's expression was calm and unafraid, yet he found the situation troublesome, especially this overwhelming "technique" of the Blood River.

"Little brat, you dare ruin my sacred ground?!"

Having lived so long and seen so many humans, demons, ghosts, and gods, it had never encountered anyone who surrendered so cleanly, so calmly, and so confidently.

The River God furrowed its strange eyebrows.

From afar, it had seen the temple's originally sealed main doors forcibly breached by a hole—just large enough for a child to crawl through.

At the center of the altar stood a statue of the River God, cast in Jin Shi, identical in form to the River God itself, yet atop its head were grafted two goat horns, appearing grotesque.

It had been sufficiently cautious, yet it never imagined today it would face such an outrageous human brat.

Including Yu Dahe's two children, and Gu An, Gu Quan, and others, they too gradually awoke from their nightmares…

Mo Hua frowned, his expression solemn, then gritted his teeth and began focusing his mind, as if attempting to form a large array to confront the River God.

It looked at Mo Hua, its expression now more serious, and spoke slowly in a hoarse voice:

"In the past few centuries, you are the second person to make this Venerable feel such difficulty."

Mo Hua moved with extreme speed.

"Your divine mind is exceedingly strong; your divine mind combat experience is rich; your divine mind techniques are endless—you can manifest spells, and even this profound array…"

The altar's bas-reliefs were ancient and simple, its furnishings luxurious, solemn and dignified.

The sword qi formed by his divine mind shredded the blood-colored demonic thoughts within its chest into fragments.

"Unlike that sword cultivator of old—his divine mind was far inferior to yours, yet his divine mind-turned-sword was razor-sharp to the extreme…"

"This is… true divine power."

Without another word, he charged forward again, locking battle with the River God.

But the sword cultivator's sword was silver.

"Even if your divine mind grows stronger, it becomes rootless floating weeds—either you die and your spirit perishes, or you fall into corruption, becoming a demon ghost…"

Mo Hua was stunned, then couldn't help but think:

"…I wonder if I could learn it?"

"The great hall!"

Even with the array, the effect was minimal.

The square held the River God's believers—the foundation of its preaching.

Mo Hua estimated he still had some time, so he turned back toward the great hall and arrived before the altar.

Mo Hua seized the chance to retreat, pulling some distance away, and said irritably:

Inside the great hall, blood-red silks draped golden canopies, carved beams and painted rafters, lavish and opulent, adorned with skull carvings and pearls formed from blood-colored demonic thoughts.

"Thus, from the moment you entered the nightmare, this Venerable has been invincible."

The River God's eyes were now entirely crimson.

The fish heads also grew tumors, swelling and shrinking irregularly.

The nightmare began to collapse faster.

Yet he knew he was not a true "god"—this technique, being an innate gift, likely could not be learned through cultivation.

"His divine mind was too extreme—his divine mind became the sword, his mind was the sword; thus his sword could harm me, yet I could easily cripple him."

Mo Hua sighed, then without another word, immediately turned and ran.

The River God's eyes widened slightly, filled with awe.

As if waking from a nightmare, hazy awareness returned—they gradually regained some consciousness, and simultaneously began slipping free of the dream.

This demonic thought was extraordinarily familiar to Mo Hua—he had even "eaten" it before.

Is this… the River God?!

Upon hearing this, Mo Hua ceased struggling, as if giving up resistance.

Enraged, the River God rushed into the great hall.

The River God transformed into a river of blood and vanished in an instant.

No matter how Mo Hua struggled, he could not break free.

Mo Hua suddenly realized something, his hand glowing with Jin Guang as he punched forward—the River God blocked it with a blood-colored demonic claw.

Rage surged through its heart, its demonic thoughts boiling; the blood on its robes darkened to near-black.

At the moment the altar was destroyed and the glass fish tank shattered, the blood-fish demons within Yu Dahe's two sons' minds, like fish taken from water, withered and died within mere breaths.

The altar was the key to everything.

It was due both to fury and the shattering of the "nightmare," which shook its very foundation.

Nor had it anticipated Mo Hua's audacity and cunning nature!

It stared at Mo Hua, trembling with rage.

"Centuries ago, he came alone, one man, one sword, seeking to exterminate my lineage—his sword art was profound and unfathomable, his sword intent piercingly sharp…"

No divine essence.

Yet this "dragon palace" was thick with blood, littered with white bones, far too netherworldly.

Technique!

These two words sound incredibly imposing!

If I learned it, wouldn't I become as powerful as a god?

At this moment, they were kneeling devoutly before the River God's statue, two special bloodfish drifting in their minds, seemingly "assimilating" the two children.

The fisher-cultivators' gazes gradually cleared.

At close range, they fought with fists and feet; at a distance, they restrained with spells, occasionally manifesting a few arrays to blast the River God.

But it was too late.

The sword shape was crude, like an unfinished blade, yet the spiritual intent within was razor-sharp, brimming with lethal intent.

They were forcibly expelled from the nightmare.

The two children seemed to be undergoing "mutation"—blood-red gills sprouting on their cheeks, blue-green fish scales growing on their skin, fins emerging on their hands and feet, slowly transforming into two "little river imps."

But before he could fully manifest, several blood-red fish tendrils burst violently from the ground, piercing his calves, then tightly binding Mo Hua and hoisting him before the River God.

The fisher-cultivators drained by the River God's fish tendrils also broke free from the demon's grasp.

"This altar… how so poor?"

Which damned, thousand-times-deserving god told this wretched, thousand-times-execrable brat about the divine taboos?!

The River God's voice was cold, laced with faint mockery:

"No need to struggle…"

"You cannot break my divine body; within my nightmare, you are powerless against me."

"You are human—you have a physical body. All I need do is keep you trapped in this dream, until your outside body rots away, or meets with accident, and perishes…"

"Good…"

Yet he feigned a diversion and destroyed the altar outright—this proves he is not entirely ignorant of the Way of the Gods.

The River God instantly understood what Mo Hua intended, and his heart and gallbladder trembled—he screamed in horror:

The taboos of the Way of the Gods are known only among gods; mortals know but a hair's breadth of them.

At the same time, a point of piercing golden light suddenly appeared.

This brat, by some means, had concealed his aura while feigning a diversion.

"Had I not been superior in skill, I would have been caught off guard by him."

Mo Hua flashed forward, appearing before it, his left hand pressing on its shoulder, his right hand gripping the spiritual-intent sword, thrusting violently downward.

What a pity…

With lightning speed, he snatched up the glass fish tank and smashed it to the ground, crushing each bloodfish beneath his feet.

But there was no pale-gold divine essence.

"If your body dies and your godhood falls, you shall perish on your own."

One by one, the fisher-cultivators' figures faded away.

Mo Hua waved his hand casually—a pale-gold light flashed, coalescing into golden threads that effortlessly severed every resilient demonic fish tendril before him!

Terror surged in the River God's eyes.

The River God, decapitated by the spiritual-intent sword, slowly melted into a thick pool of blood.

Life-or-death peril loomed before him—far more terrifying than the sword strike from centuries ago.

Arriving before the square, he saw it drenched in blood.

Yet after chasing for a long time, all the way to the square's edge, Mo Hua's figure remained unseen.

Then he kicked over the offering table, turned and kicked the River God statue down, even leaping onto its head and snapping off its two goat horns.

"I told you—your spiritual intent is strong, but too balanced. Everything is strong, yet nothing reaches absolute extremity."

The River God's eyelid twitched.

Mo Hua instantly recognized the fish monster as the River God's transformed form.

Mo Hua stared again at the River God.

But when Mo Hua traced the causal threads, he saw nothing.

A deformed fish monster, with a bloated fish head, a demon-like body, entirely blood-red, thick fish tendrils like tentacles spreading around, binding each fisher-cultivator and draining their spiritual awareness.

"So he could wound me—but you cannot!"

"You wish to ruin my sacred ground, sever my roots, annihilate my divine path…"

To eradicate evil, one must finish it thoroughly; to expel demons, one must treat the root.

Yet the River God's power steadily strengthened, his fish tendrils thickened further, and his demonic intent advanced step by step toward its peak.

Mo Hua struggled on, but the fish tendrils were entwined with the demonic intent of the Great Wilderness God—unyielding and unbreakable, binding Mo Hua tightly.

Mo Hua was somewhat tempted.

Just like the sword thrust from centuries ago.

"You dare?!"

His spiritual intent flowed, manifesting the Five Elements: golden blades, water arrows, fireballs—all launched at the surrounding bloodfish tendrils, severing or incinerating them.

Since neither side could gain the upper hand, Mo Hua decided to investigate further—he pretended to flee toward the square, but secretly used an invisibility technique to circle back, break into the temple's door, and enter the River God's true "home," where he saw the real altar.

But the River God never flooded the temple—surely because something within the temple was as vital, or even more vital, than the foundation of his preaching.

The River God was too far away to stop him—he could only watch helplessly as Mo Hua wreaked havoc, turning the entire altar into a ruined mess in moments.

Now that the altar was destroyed, the nightmare lost its root; once the fisher-cultivators awoke and escaped the nightmare, they would inevitably shake the very foundation of the nightmare.

Beneath the offering table knelt two children—Yu Dahe's two sons.

The temple door was closed; he had never entered, so he did not know what lay inside.

This "collective nightmare" was constructed by the River God but sustained by the fisher-cultivators' faith.

The spiritual intent, infused with pale-gold divine essence, was a true "god's" sword.

"You're stalling for time?"

Mo Hua frowned, but time was limited; he took a deep breath and swallowed all of the River God's malevolent thoughts into his belly.

After dozens of rounds of combat, Mo Hua held a slight upper hand, yet neither could claim victory—just as the River God had said, he simply could not overcome it.

Mo Hua thought: So it is.

The River God's chest was pierced by a pale golden sword light.

Great Wilderness Demon God…

In the center of the offering table stood a translucent fish tank, filled entirely with blood-red little fish.

Mo Hua stood before the altar and smiled sharply at the River God.

A massive cloud of blood mist erupted violently in all directions.

Not only was its spiritual sense absurdly strong, but its mind was also devious and cunning.

The River God's expression was cold.

But it did not believe it.

Mo Hua turned over every inch of the altar and found nothing of value.

"Is there a possibility…"

Even, it had activated a malevolent thought that did not belong to it.

"But even if his sword intent is strong, he is still merely a 'human'—he cannot change the fact that his spiritual sense is fragile."

The fish cultivators, just awakened from nightmares, were filled with panic, their expressions uncertain and alarmed.

Mo Hua looked at the River God, so close to him, and suddenly smiled brilliantly, "... I can turn my spiritual sense into a sword too?"

So far, he and this giant fish-head were evenly matched; truly defeating it did not seem easy at all.

The River God sneered and did not answer.

Meanwhile, in the square, the blood fish inside the minds of the fish cultivators kneeling before the River God died one by one, their bodies drying out.

Like a small dragon palace beneath the river.

The River God transformed into blood water, its malevolent thoughts surging, immediately chasing after Mo Hua.

The River God's malevolent thoughts continuously leaked outward; its entire spiritual body, like a deflated balloon, gradually withered and returned to its original form.

That elder must have received the Grand Void Gate's True Transmission of Sword Transformation, and after decades of relentless sword path refinement, achieved such spiritual power as to confront a deity head-on.

Their gazes still held traces of terror as they stared at the monstrous River God in the center.

The River God dueled Mo Hua, either summoning bone fish spears to form blood thorns in combat, or unleashing the Blood River Divine Art to corrode Mo Hua's spiritual sense.

Mo Hua's heart tightened; he sensed something amiss and instantly transformed into flowing water, rushing to the front hall's square.

Mo Hua frowned, pondered briefly, then spoke frankly:

In the moment of life and death, the little fish thrashed desperately, flinging all its filthy, bloody fluid away, revealing its silver-white body.

"Divine talent…"

At this moment, Mo Hua stood before the altar, stroking his chin, thinking and nodding slightly.

"Where did it go?"

But it had not yet been refined.

The River God unleashed the Boundless Blood River Divine Art, flooding over half the River God Temple—yet two places remained untouched: the square and the main hall.

"You could say you resemble a 'god' more than a 'human.'"

A moment later, his crisp voice sounded again.

The offering table was piled high with fish offerings—upon closer inspection, all were made of human flesh and bone.

It might even know an extraordinary amount.

The River God froze, then its pupils widened in shock.

This pool of blood water was composed of malevolent thoughts.

This young cultivator, though young, was cunning and strange; not a single word he spoke could be trusted.

The River God's head was severed by Mo Hua's spiritual sword.

This was the altar it had painstakingly built over centuries—yet in the blink of an eye, it was utterly destroyed.

In the center of the main hall stood an altar.

Mo Hua licked his lips, "How will you know unless you try?"

Mo Hua sighed and turned to leave, when the corner of his eye suddenly caught a blood-stained little fish swimming out from within the deity statue.

It must have been that during the battle, the spiritual clash was too violent, obscuring the causal threads—so when he tried to divine it, he only caught a fleeting glimpse, unable to see the actual combat process.

"And your spiritual sense is perfectly balanced in offense and defense—so even if I use my Divine Art, I cannot kill you; conversely, you cannot harm me either…"

It paused to think, then suddenly felt a surge of dread and exclaimed:

Even cultivators who specialize in spiritual sword transformation, unless their sword intent has reached the pinnacle, would likely perish upon encountering such a powerful Blood River Divine Art.

First, his guess was correct.

"First, there was a sword cultivator."

"Even if it becomes a demon ghost, it will be severely weakened—no match for me."

And ordinary cultivators—or even ordinary spiritual sword cultivators—facing such true deity-level 'Divine Arts' had absolutely no chance of survival.

Beneath the River God statue stood an offering table.

The faint remnants of malevolent energy were not even enough to fill his teeth; Mo Hua found them utterly worthless.

With its master gone, the entire River God Temple shook violently and began to collapse.

The entire River God Temple seemed to tremble slightly.

The River God, seeing that Mo Hua understood, smiled faintly, revealing its sharp, white fangs.

The altar has been destroyed.

The River God's heart is dripping blood.

"But even if your spiritual sense is strong, your killing power still falls far short of that ancient sword cultivator."

Then they saw an even more unbelievable sight…

But this time, the divine technique was smaller, forming only a blood-colored river of malevolent intent within a few zhang around him, to restrain Mo Hua's attacks.

Mo Hua had no reason to refuse.

It resembled a sword forged from the immense spiritual will of a mighty deity!

A single drop of spiritual essence merged into the sword, sharpening its edge.

The River God, furious, his beard and hair bristling, immediately reversed the blood river, sending it rushing back to the front of the hall at greater speed.

This brat has quite the thick skin.

The two children also ceased their transformation.

The awakened fish cultivators, one by one, looked terrified, struggling and fleeing in all directions.

That ancient sword cultivator must have broken this Blood River technique as well.

The River God struggled backward, trying to put distance between himself and Mo Hua, trying to put distance between himself and this "Little Yama" wielding the golden sword.

At first, the River God paid no heed, but when he saw Mo Hua's escape route leading toward the square where the fish cultivators knelt, his eyes flashed with deadly intent.

"I surrender, I'm done playing—can you let me out?"

And Mo Hua's sword was golden.

Golden radiance, sharp and invincible, pierced straight through the River God's chest.

A young cultivator wrapped in pale golden light, holding a golden divine sword, dragged the River God onto a platform, pressed his left hand on the River God's head, raised his right hand with the sword, and brought it down in a blinding flash of golden light—cleanly and efficiently severing the River God's head.

He's trying to raid my home!

"You cunning little beast!!"

The River God never expected Mo Hua could conceal himself.

The River God's voice was hoarse and twisted, his expression grotesque and terrifying.

The River God collapsed; the offering table overturned; the glass jar shattered; the sinister offerings spilled across the ground, and as the dream crumbled, they twisted and dissolved into wisps of malevolent energy.

The River God's divine body began to twist and deform.

"But you are different…"

Vast, transformative, divine spiritual will—equal to the power of a deity—flooded into Mo Hua's right hand, compressing, condensing, forging into an extremely thick and dense sword shape.

There was nothing to "eat" either.

"Then I'll devour every human and beast, strengthen my spiritual will, and then slowly torture you, this brat, swallowing you alive…"

A fish that got away?

But there were too many fish fins; Mo Hua simply couldn't cut them all.

This shocking sight struck the hearts of all the fish cultivators, filling them with awe and leaving them trembling for a long time.

The River God held the same thought.

Mo Hua immediately reached out to crush the little fish.

A silver fish?

Mo Hua paused, a hint of surprise crossing his face; seeing that the tiny silver fish carried no blood-tainted aura or demonic corruption, he spared its life out of compassion.

The trembling little silver fish nodded repeatedly at Mo Hua, as if bowing in thanks, then shot away in a flash of silver light, vanishing into the depths, unknown where.

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