Chapter 878: Self-Decapitation

Mo Hua realized the demonic fetus was panicking.

When the enemy panics, it means you're doing something right.

When the enemy is desperate, it means you're doing it very right.

Mo Hua slashed even harder.

The ancient sword intent within the bamboo sword transformed into a massive, heavy, illusory-real sword, swirling like Grand Void, and slammed down upon his own life-soul.

It felt as if he had been split cleanly in two by a single sword strike.

A tremendous pain surged through him.

Mo Hua clenched his teeth, furrowed his brow, and endured the tearing agony of "self-decapitation of the life-soul."

But the demonic fetus suffered more than he did.

Within Mo Hua's life-soul lay the Seven Souls.

He had severed only one—Fu Shi, the soul the demonic fetus inhabited.

The demonic fetus dwelled within Mo Hua's life-soul, and only one soul, so what Mo Hua severed was merely one-seventh of himself.

But what he severed was the entire demonic fetus.

The demonic fetus's pain was at least seven times his own; its wounds were seven times worse.

Thinking of this, Mo Hua suddenly found the pain less unbearable.

"You little lamb, daring to jump on my face and disrupt my Dao heart? I'll make you regret it!"

Mo Hua gritted his teeth and slashed three more times.

These three strikes were powerful and heavy, rending the demonic fetus's soul with agonized shrieks, after which it roared:

"You little son of a bitch! Do you really want to die?!"

"Self-decapitating your life-soul—aren't you afraid your soul will vanish and your body die?!"

Mo Hua ignored the demonic fetus.

He operated simply: if he could act, he never spoke.

He let the opponent be rendered unable to act, then he would speak.

Only if he truly couldn't defeat someone would he resort to words.

But now, clearly, he held the advantage—"advantage is mine"—so speaking would be pure waste of time.

Mo Hua slashed once more.

The demonic fetus let out a piercing cry of agony, realizing Mo Hua was determined, then shrieked: "Don't forget—I am you, and you are me. Cut me, and you cut yourself!"

"Nonsense."

Mo Hua said coldly, then slashed again.

The soul-rending pain surged into Mo Hua's divine soul—and sevenfold into the demonic fetus.

The demonic fetus, writhing in agony, finally twisted its face into a grotesque mask, forcing its way through Mo Hua's divine seal, emerging from Fu Shi's soul to gasp for breath.

The demonic fetus had surfaced.

Simultaneously, behind Mo Hua, another head "grew" out of thin air—black, filthy, ugly, and demonic.

It was the demonic fetus's head.

In that instant the demonic fetus surfaced, Mo Hua's eyes lit up.

His small hand shot out, swift as lightning, grasping the demonic fetus's throat. Without hesitation, he dragged it by the neck toward the Dao Stele.

On the Dao Stele, crimson lightning pulses glowed, horrifying and vivid.

The demonic fetus, suddenly strangled by Mo Hua, felt a chill in its core—"I've been tricked by this brat!"

Then it sensed the crimson, annihilating aura upon the Dao Stele—and its heart froze in terror.

Instantly, the demonic fetus, ignoring its agony, shed a layer of skin, turning into a pool of black water, and at the last possible moment, slipped back into Mo Hua's life-soul.

When Mo Hua brought his hand before the crimson lightning, the demonic fetus in his grip had vanished.

Only thick, viscous black fluid remained.

It seemed to be the skin the demonic fetus had shed.

"Skin-shedding."

Mo Hua frowned.

Where did this little lamb learn such a technique? It didn't know this before.

Or was this one of its innate divine abilities, slowly awakening with its memories?

Mo Hua felt deeply troubled—and also disappointed.

"So close..."

First, use the cultivation method of the Soul-Cutting Sword to self-decapitate the life-soul, forcing the demonic fetus into unbearable agony and driving it out of Fu Shi's soul.

Then, while it was enraged and distracted, seize it with lightning speed, and obliterate it with the calamity lightning—permanently eliminating the threat.

Unfortunately, the demonic fetus was too alert, and had somehow learned this strange "skin-shedding" technique.

If only it had reacted a fraction slower.

Or if it hadn't known "skin-shedding."

It would have been dead for sure this time.

The "duck" slipped from his grasp—Mo Hua was furious.

After the demonic fetus remerged into Mo Hua's life-soul this time, it made not a single sound, and dared not emit even a trace of its aura.

Mo Hua said: "Hey, come out."

"Weren't you just so arrogant?"

The demonic fetus remained silent.

"If you don't come out, I'll cut you again," Mo Hua said.

Even so, the Evil Fetus still hid within the Fu Shi Soul, daring not to stir.

A perfectly good evil embryo, frightened into a bird that jumps at the sound of a bowstring.

Mo Hua clenched his teeth, summoned the ancient sword intent, and slashed once more at his own spirit-soul.

This slash was excruciating; the Evil Fetus could no longer hold back, and hissed bitterly:

"Fine, cut away..."

"Evil thoughts are self-born, immortal and indestructible. Let's see who has the harder life—who dies first..."

After that, it sank into complete stillness.

No matter how many times Mo Hua slashed at it, it made not a single sound.

Mo Hua could no longer continue slashing, for cutting into his own life-soul was truly agonizing.

If the Evil Fetus had cried out in pain, he would have had something to compare against, and it might have eased his mind slightly.

But now the Evil Fetus was pretending to be dead; if he kept slashing, he would feel only his own suffering.

So Mo Hua stopped.

And the moment he stopped, the cracks carved into his life-soul by the ancient sword began to ache like knife cuts.

Mo Hua clutched his head, his whole body trembling from the pain.

"It's over—I cut too much..."

The pain hadn't been obvious while cutting, but now, the lingering agony began to creep back, slowly rising.

The pain intensified.

Mo Hua hurriedly summoned his spiritual awareness, using the last of his spiritual essence to mend the wounds on his spirit-soul.

The spiritual essence seeped slowly into his body, like a universal elixir, repairing the damage to Mo Hua's spirit-soul.

And just then, as if sensing the aura of the spiritual essence, the Evil Fetus stirred slightly, exuding a trace of greed.

But in the end, it dared not surface to snatch Mo Hua's spiritual essence.

"Good for you..."

Mo Hua snorted coldly.

Yet afterward, his heart was not at ease.

This time, he had taught the little lamb a lesson, but the outcome was, to some extent, mutually destructive.

Of course, the Evil Fetus suffered more.

Compared to the Evil Fetus, he himself had suffered only a minor defeat.

But this couldn't go on...

Though he had suppressed the Evil Fetus's arrogance, his spirit-soul had also sustained damage.

To temper the soul with the sword, to slash one's own spirit-soul—exactly as Master Du Gu had said, this was an extremely perilous cultivation method.

He himself couldn't endure it, let alone anyone else.

Mo Hua sighed inwardly.

Those predecessors of the Grand Void Gate who did not walk the path of spiritual awareness, whose spiritual thoughts had never been refined into Dao, had still managed, through their own efforts, to master the "Soul-Slicing Form." Their talent, willpower, and comprehension were truly admirable.

To slash one's own life-soul was simply too difficult...

"So... should I still continue learning the Soul-Slicing Form?"

Mo Hua frowned.

He sat cross-legged on the ground, pondered deeply for a while, and silently strengthened his resolve.

He would still persist in learning it.

Even if his spirit-soul was wounded, he would learn it.

If this were ordinary times, he could wait, or follow Master Du Gu's teachings, learning the Soul-Slicing Form gradually and safely, slowly—none of it would matter much.

But now was different.

The Evil Fetus had parasitized his life-soul, nourished by his spiritual sea, slowly awakening its powers and recovering its memories. From every angle, it was a colossal threat.

This threat must be eradicated.

The Evil Fetus had forced him to learn the Soul-Slicing Form.

If he didn't learn it, if he failed to cut out this Evil Fetus, then should any mishap occur—should this Evil Fetus find an opening—he would very likely be utterly corrupted, becoming a puppet of the Great Wilderness Evil God.

Therefore, the Soul-Slicing Sword must be learned!

His opponent was the Evil Fetus—and someday, the Evil God.

The Dao Stele and the Tribulation Lightning were both within his spiritual sea, but they were still "external things."

The "Soul-Slicing Sword" was the only method he could actively control, the sole means to counter—and even kill—the Evil God.

His life must be in his own hands.

Mo Hua's gaze was resolute.

And now, the only problem was the lingering injury from slashing his own life-soul.

Spiritual essence could repair spirit-soul wounds, but after several such damages, Mo Hua had very little spiritual essence left.

With less spiritual essence, his current spiritual thought refinement had weakened slightly.

His spiritual thought avatar was no longer as brilliantly golden as before.

"This is a problem..."

He currently had no way to replenish spiritual essence, and with the Evil Fetus constraining him, he still had to spend vast amounts of time learning arrays and sword techniques—there was no chance he could go searching for altars.

Mo Hua frowned tightly.

At that moment, he noticed his hands were dirty and sticky; he looked down and saw black, viscous fluid clinging to his palms.

It seemed to be the blood-skin shed by the parasitic embryo just now as it forcibly broke free.

These black waters are too filthy; Mo Hua found them repulsive.

After a moment, he suddenly froze, his eyes flickering with light, and tossed the filthy, grimy "blood-skin" onto the Dao Stele, striking it with a lightning strike.

A faint, terrifying wail, like that of a demon, rose up.

Then the black vapor evaporated, the evil thoughts purified, and the once filthy blood-skin leaked out pure golden marrow fluid.

And this gold was deeper, purer, and shimmered with a hint of crystalline clarity than any divine marrow he had ever obtained before.

Mo Hua wiped the divine marrow with his finger, licked it into his mouth, and his eyes instantly brightened.

"So pure!"

Too bad, there was too little—he sucked a few times, and it was gone.

Mo Hua was unsatisfied, yet suddenly enlightened:

"I nearly forgot—the parasitic embryo is the embryo of the Great Wilderness Evil God; thus, its body must carry extraordinarily concentrated divine marrow…"

The parasitic embryo dwells within my life-soul.

In other words, it is a "treasury of divine marrow" hidden inside my spirit-soul.

The only catch is, I must find a way to extract that marrow myself…

Mo Hua's eyes immediately gleamed brightly.

I must learn this Sword of Severing Gods!

Sever the parasitic embryo, and I'll get something delicious to eat!

But how to sever it?

Mo Hua pondered for a moment, and gradually formed an idea in his mind.

The Sword of Severing Gods, to some extent, is also "self-mutilation," so I must not rush—it's enough to sever one sword-cut per day, to avoid overburdening my spirit-soul and inflicting excessive injury.

Only one sword-cut per day.

Use this "tempering the spirit with the sword, severing one's life-soul" cut to comprehend the intent of the Sword of Severing Gods and cultivate its form.

Day by day, month by month, drop by drop, stone wears through.

One day, I will surely completely sever and kill this parasitic embryo!

And if, through my own strength and my own spiritual awareness, I can fully embody the Grand Void's sword intent and kill this parasitic embryo, then in some sense, it would mean…

My Sword of Severing Gods, if not yet perfected, is at least already partially accomplished!

This parasitic embryo is both my "target dummy" for practicing the Sword of Severing Gods and my "touchstone" for testing its mastery.

And once I completely sever the parasitic embryo, I will obtain vast quantities of divine marrow.

With such pure, such concentrated divine marrow, I can fully repair the injuries accumulated over years from severing my own life-soul.

Misfortune leans on fortune.

This parasitic embryo is a plague—but precisely because of it, I have the opportunity to cultivate the Sword of Severing Gods!

Mo Hua's thoughts churned wildly, yet outwardly he showed no sign, even feigning distress as he muttered painfully:

"This sword technique has too severe a backlash—I should never have used it…"

This remark was naturally heard by the parasitic embryo within his life-soul.

The parasitic embryo merely sneered, as if mocking Mo Hua's recklessness and ignorance.

Severing your life-soul—you think it's like the Five Decays of the Celestial, or corpse liberation to attain Dao?

Truly, ignorance is fearless…

It had assumed that once Mo Hua felt pain, he would stop—but it never imagined this boy's "evil heart would not die"; from then on, he severed one sword-cut on himself every single day.

Not much—just one cut.

This mere cut could not kill it; it was more like a goad and a humiliation.

The parasitic embryo was furious, but could only endure in silence.

It waited, waiting for Mo Hua to keep "seeking death"—until one day, when he severed too deeply, he would inevitably undergo Dao transformation and face a great calamity.

Then would be its chance…

The parasitic embryo grinned—but before it could finish, Mo Hua scolded it:

"Behave yourself!"

"Your expressions show on my face—I know you're smirking."

The parasitic embryo's face turned as black as ink.

…

Afterward, Mo Hua continued to sever one sword-cut per day.

Several days later, the seven-day cycle arrived again; Mo Hua was ripped through the void by Elder Gu Du and taken to the back mountain to receive sword instruction.

After teaching him, Elder Gu Du studied Mo Hua and, seeing his listless expression, frowned and said:

"You've injured your spirit-soul."

Mo Hua could not admit it; he only shook his head. "Lately I've studied too many arrays—my spiritual awareness is overtaxed, so I'm just tired."

Elder Gu Du fell silent for a moment, and did not suspect.

Mo Hua's condition could pass for spirit-soul injury—or for excessive spiritual awareness depletion.

But normally, a cultivator with spirit-soul injury would have dull eyes, muddled thoughts, constant stabbing pain in the spirit sea—symptoms far worse than Mo Hua's.

Mo Hua was listless, but his spirit remained strong.

Elder Gu Du paid little heed, yet still gave a special warning: "Cultivation requires drop-by-drop, stone-wearing-through progress; don't overexert yourself."

"And those sword marks on the bamboo slip—they contain an ancient Grand Void Gate sword intent. It's not something you're ready to comprehend yet. Even if you can't grasp its meaning, don't lose heart."

"You only need to constantly visualize it, let its intent permeate you—it will greatly benefit you when you eventually learn the 'Sword of Severing Gods.'"

Mo Hua sincerely said: "Thank you for the Laozu Sect's teachings!"

Elder Gu Du nodded. "Go back."

"Yes," Mo Hua bowed respectfully. "Disciple takes his leave."

Then Elder Gu Du sent him back to the disciples' quarters.

After returning to the disciples' quarters, there was still time before dawn; Mo Hua seized the moment and sank his spiritual awareness into his mind sea, practicing formation techniques on the Dao Stele.

After finishing the formation practice, dawn was nearly here; Mo Hua withdrew from his mind sea, took out the bamboo slip, visualized the sword shape, and slashed himself once.

That slash hurt.

Mo Hua winced in pain, then silently repeated in his heart: "The demonic embryo hurts more than I do, the demonic embryo hurts more than I do…"

Indeed, after a while, the pain eased considerably.

But after the slash, Mo Hua suddenly remembered Elder Gu Du's guidance to him, especially regarding the ancient Grand Void sword intent on the bamboo slip.

He felt a faint unease in his heart.

It seemed Elder Gu Du's words conflicted slightly with his own understanding.

But he couldn't pinpoint exactly where the conflict lay.

A thread of worry surfaced in Mo Hua's heart:

"Could I… have learned this wrong again?"

Mo Hua pondered for a moment, then thought it impossible.

He had learned the Fireball Technique wrong because his spiritual awareness was unique.

He had learned the Sword Transformation wrong because there was no transmission.

He had learned the Shocking Spirit Sword wrong because no one had taught him…

Now, Elder Gu Du, who mastered the True Secret of Spiritual Awareness Sword and guarded the back mountain of the Grand Void Gate, had given him the sword bamboo slip and personally taught him.

How could he possibly have learned it wrong?

Mo Hua shook his head repeatedly.

Impossible! Absolutely impossible!

Besides, he had practiced strictly according to the eight characters: "Use the sword to temper the spirit, slash your own life soul."

Not a single character was off!

How could he have learned it wrong?

Mo Hua finally put his mind at ease.

The morning sun rose, its bright light streaming into the disciples' quarters; a new day had begun.

After "slashing himself once," which had sharpened his mind and spirit, Mo Hua rallied his energy and began new cultivation.

He remembered Master Xun's instructions: ignore all other matters, focus on cultivation, focus on learning formations.

But during his peaceful cultivation days, the entire Qian Xue Province was in turmoil.

Tai'e Gate.

In the main hall, the Sect Master of Tai'e and several elders were holding a council.

"Master, negotiations have failed…"

"The Sida Sect is pressuring us, and Dao Ting Si won't budge either—this matter of the Crimson Boat cannot be suppressed, not even softened…"

Another elder sighed: "Our original intent was to 'cut flesh to feed the eagle,' surrendering some sect interests to buy time."

"The disciples who boarded the Crimson Boat and broke Dao Ting laws and sect rules won't be punished immediately—they'll be judged after this year's Dao Forum."

"After all, the sect's restructuring is imminent, and this first Dao Forum carries too much significance."

"But… sigh…"

One elder said: "It's clearly a trap—almost all our sect's prodigies have been trapped inside."

The Tai'e Sect Master immediately sneered: "What prodigies? Too young to cultivate properly, learning to visit brothels, engaging in shady deeds—do they even deserve the name 'prodigy'?"

He was tall and burly, with a slightly dark complexion and square features; he spoke bluntly and had a poor temper.

The Tai'e Sect Master grew angrier the more he thought, then roared:

"If it weren't for the Dao Forum approaching, and if I'd listened to your advice and prioritized sect interests, I'd have already crippled and expelled every one of those beasts—why would I need to scramble around, enduring the Sida Sect's and Dao Ting Si's insults?"

The other elders dared not speak.

Only an elderly, senior elder softly sighed:

"The world is full of fleeting desires, dazzling colors; they're young, their Dao hearts unstable, their blood hot—how could they resist temptation?"

"Besides, some disciples were clearly framed—coerced or threatened, and it was their first time on that boat."

"As elders, we were negligent, lax in prevention—we can't escape responsibility either…"

The Tai'e Sect Master said nothing in rebuttal.

Not just the elders—he, as Sect Master, bore responsibility too.

He had always thought of using this restructuring to advance further, but kept looking upward, failing to notice the tripwires planted beneath his feet, leaving him bleeding and fallen.

One elder's gaze was solemn:

"This incident is too coincidental—if I believed there was no scheming by the Sida Sect, I'd never believe it."

"Even Dao Ting Si, and perhaps even the Central Dao Court, must be secretly fanning the flames…"

"But what good is saying this now?"

"Who doesn't know they're scheming against us?"

"How could such a crucial position be handed over so easily…"

"But this method… is too despicable…"

"Win, and it's called strategy; lose, and it's called despicable."

"We may not necessarily lose…"

"Don't say such naive things—by now, how can we win? Forget advancing further; just holding our current position is already a stroke of heavenly fortune…"

"You fellow, why are you boosting the enemy's morale and crushing your own?"

"Then what? Isn't this the truth…"

The others argued among themselves, their voices growing louder and fiercer.

One elder coughed, and gradually, the room fell silent.

The Tai'e Sect's leader's face was as dark as water; after a moment, he could only sigh helplessly:

"Replace the disciples. During this time, have them train hard, hone their Dao methods. For this Dao Discourse Assembly, we can only do this…"

The elders all nodded, yet their faces were clouded with gloom.

Even the Tai'e Sect's leader himself held little optimism.

Do all one can, leave the rest to Zhao Tianming.

He could only silently whisper in his heart: "May Laozu bless us—let Tai'e Sect pass through this threshold…"

…

Chongxu Sect.

In the cave dwelling at the back mountain.

The Chongxu Laozu also spoke to the Chongxu Sect's leader:

"It has come to this. All schemes exhausted, the heavenly patterns shrouded in mist—we've fallen into someone's meticulously laid trap. We must accept defeat."

"We've done all we can. What remains, we leave to Zhao Tianming."

The Chongxu Sect's leader sighed, "I hope these replacement disciples can deliver some unexpected performance."

The Chongxu Laozu nodded, but held no expectation.

In cultivation, weak is weak, strong is strong.

Occasionally, the weak defeating the strong is mere luck.

But in a Dao Discourse Assembly, with its multiple rounds of grueling combat, there is almost no room for such "luck."

The Chongxu Laozu said: "Just try to survive this session. By the next one, things will improve. Our Chongxu Sect still has one 'secret weapon.'"

The Chongxu Sect's leader perked up, nodded, and a flicker of hope stirred in his heart.

Linghu Xiao's talent is extraordinary, his sword Dao exceptional.

If he leads, the next Sword Discourse Assembly, Chongxu Sect will surely shine brilliantly.

He might even turn the tide.

Yet the Chongxu Laozu's heart remained clouded.

He feared most that the Sida Sect would go too far, leaving them not even a breath of respite…

…

This scene between Tai'e Sect and Chongxu Sect played out among the upper echelons of many sects across Qianxue Province.

Some rejoiced, others grieved.

Some succeeded in their schemes, others sighed to the heavens.

The closer it drew to the Dao Discourse Assembly, the more frequent the changes became.

Hidden currents surged ever more fiercely.

But Mo Hua, as a mere "ordinary" disciple of the Grand Void Gate, knew little of these things and paid them no heed.

He remembered his place, and devoted himself quietly to cultivation.

His cultivation steadily grew.

His sword Dao was honed bit by bit.

And his arrays, under Master Xun's guidance and his own relentless day-and-night efforts, gradually solidified to a level beyond the imagination of ordinary cultivators…

Time slipped by like a white colt passing a crevice.

Soon, over six months had passed.

Amid the gaze of countless eyes, the Qianxue Province Dao Discourse Assembly began…