Chapter 701: Beheading a Deity
In front of the River God Temple.
Mo Hua's small figure stood facing the towering and twisted River God, yet he showed no sign of being suppressed in momentum.
All around was rubble and ruin—collapsed walls and broken pillars, the once-grand temple now a wreck.
Most of the River God Temple had first been engulfed by the River God's divine technique Boundless Blood River, and then incinerated by Mo Hua's divine-sense-manifested Crimson Flame Array.
Now, among the ruins, only the plaza where the fisherman-cultivators knelt in worship and the main hall behind the River God remained intact.
The River God gazed at Mo Hua with deep apprehension in its eyes.
Mo Hua, for his part, appeared calm and unafraid, though he, too, found things rather tricky—especially that terrifying blood river "divine ability."
Even cultivators who refined their divine sense into swords would be hard-pressed to survive such a technique—unless their sword intent had reached a peerless realm.
That sword cultivator from long ago had likely broken through this Blood River divine art as well.
But when Mo Hua had tried to trace that battle through cause and effect, the clash of divine sense had been so intense that it blurred the karmic threads. All he'd glimpsed was a fleeting image—nothing of the actual fight.
That senior must have inherited the True Sword Manifestation lineage of the Great Void Sect, and after years of tempering his sword path, cultivated a divine sense strong enough to clash head-on with a god.
But for most cultivators—even those who practiced Sword Manifestation through Divine Sense—facing a true divine-level "innate art" meant certain death.
"So this is... the true power of a god,"
"An innate divine ability..."
Mo Hua was shaken. Then a stray thought crept up:
"...I wonder if I could learn it?"
Divine ability!
Just those two words sounded insanely cool.
If he could master something like that—wouldn't he be just as powerful as an actual god?
Mo Hua felt rather tempted.
But he also knew—he wasn't a real "god." If this divine ability was innate by nature, then it probably couldn't be learned through cultivation alone.
What a pity...
Mo Hua glanced at the River God again.
As things stood, he and this fish-headed thing were more or less evenly matched. Defeating it wouldn't be easy.
The River God had the same realization.
Its gaze grew more solemn as it rasped slowly:
"In the past few centuries, you're the second one... to make me feel this threatened."
"The first was a sword cultivator."
"Hundreds of years ago, he came alone—with just a single sword—intending to destroy my divine domain. His sword techniques were unfathomably deep, his sword intent, razor-sharp."
"Had I not been just a bit stronger, I would have fallen to him."
"But no matter how fierce his sword intent was—he was still 'human.' That didn't change the fact that divine sense is fragile."
"You, on the other hand..."
The River God's eyes widened slightly, filled with a hint of amazement.
"...Your divine sense is incredibly powerful. Your experience in divine-sense combat is vast. Your techniques are endless—able to manifest spells, even formations this profound..."
"One could say—you seem more like a god than a human."
"But even so, your killing power doesn't match that sword cultivator's."
"His divine sense was pure extremity—divine sense as sword, sword as divine sense. His sword could hurt me, and in turn, I could easily injure him."
"Yours, however, is balanced in both offense and defense—so balanced that even with my divine ability, I can't kill you. But conversely, you can't defeat me either..."
The River God's expression turned cold.
Mo Hua licked his lips. "Won't know till I try."
Without another word, he charged in again, launching another intense battle.
At close range, they exchanged blows with fists and kicks. At a distance, Mo Hua cast spells to suppress the River God. Occasionally, he would manifest formation arrays to explode against it.
The River God fought back with white-bone fish spears, conjured blood spikes, or unleashed smaller-scale versions of the Blood River Divine Ability, forming a river of blood-tainted evil will within a few meters of its body to restrict Mo Hua's attacks.
Dozens of rounds passed this way. Though Mo Hua held a slight advantage, victory remained elusive—just as the River God had said: he couldn't truly harm it.
Then, Mo Hua suddenly realized something.
He struck with a golden-glowing fist. The River God blocked with a bloody demon claw.
Mo Hua took the opportunity to pull back and widen the distance, frowning.
"You're stalling for time?"
The River God, seeing that Mo Hua had caught on, gave a faint grin, baring its icy white fangs.
"You're human. And humans have bodies. All I need to do is keep you trapped in this dream. Once your physical body begins to rot, or suffers an accident..."
"No matter how strong your divine sense is, it becomes a rootless weed. You'll either die and vanish entirely—"
"Or fall into corruption and become a wicked ghost."
"If you die, then that's that."
"If you become a ghost, your essence will be damaged. You won't be a match for me either."
"From the moment you stepped into this dream, I've already secured an unbeatable position."
Mo Hua's brows furrowed in thought, and then he said openly:
"Alright. I admit defeat. I don't wanna play anymore. Can you let me out?"
The River God twitched.
This little brat was... really thick-skinned.
It had lived for centuries, seen countless mortals, monsters, ghosts, and gods—but none had surrendered so casually, so composedly, so shamelessly.
Naturally, it didn't believe a word.
This kid might look young, but he was sly as a snake. Nothing that came out of his mouth could be trusted.
The River God sneered and stayed silent.
Mo Hua sighed. Then, without warning, he turned and bolted.
At first, the River God didn't care. But when it saw the direction Mo Hua was fleeing—toward the plaza of kneeling fisherman-cultivators—its expression suddenly darkened.
"Brat, you dare target my Dao field?!"
It transformed into blood water, evil intent surging, and gave chase.
But it chased and chased—all the way to the plaza—and still saw no sign of Mo Hua.
"Where did he go?!"
The River God's eerie brows furrowed in confusion.
As it pondered, it suddenly felt a wave of dread.
"The main hall!"
That little brat—who knows how—had hidden his aura and pulled a classic bait-and-switch.
He was going for the core!
The River God's whiskers and beard bristled with fury as it whipped back toward the main hall with a reverse surge of blood.
From a distance, it already saw the once tightly sealed temple doors broken open—just wide enough for a small child to squeeze through.
"You sneaky little beast!!"
Enraged, the River God charged into the hall.
Inside the main hall—blood silk, gold drapes, carved rafters and painted beams—it was ornate and extravagant, filled with grotesque furnishings made from skulls and blood-wrought pearls of evil intent.
Like a palace beneath the river—a twisted, hellish version of a dragon king's lair.
But unlike a proper Dragon Palace, this one was steeped in crimson, lined with bone, and reeked of the underworld.
And at the center of the hall—There stood an altar.
The altar's reliefs were ancient, its arrangements lavish—silent and solemn.
At the center of the altar stood a golden-stone statue of the River God. It looked identical to the River God itself, save for a pair of ram horns grotesquely grafted onto its head, making it appear bizarre and unnatural.
Below the statue stood an offering table.
The table overflowed with offerings of fish and delicacies—though on closer inspection, all of them were made of human flesh and bone.
At the table's center sat a glazed glass fishbowl, filled with blood-red minnows.
Beneath the offering table knelt two children—the sons of Yu Dahe.
They were currently kneeling in devout worship before the River God statue. Two strange blood-colored fish swam through their minds, seemingly "assimilating" them.
The children were being mutated. Blood-red gills sprouted at their cheeks. Their skin began to grow greenish-blue fish scales. Their limbs showed signs of fin-like transformation. Bit by bit, they were turning into little river imps.
At that moment, Mo Hua stood before the altar, rubbing his chin in thought, nodding slightly to himself.
First of all—his guess had been correct.
The River God had used Boundless Blood River to flood most of the temple, sparing only two places: the plaza and the main hall.
The plaza held the River God's worshippers—the foundation of its divine domain.
The main hall's doors had been tightly shut, and Mo Hua had never entered, so he hadn't known what was inside.
But the fact that the River God hadn't flooded the main hall meant that something equally—if not more—important than faith lay within.
Since the fight was at a stalemate, Mo Hua figured he might as well take a look. So he faked a retreat toward the plaza, then used a concealment technique to sneak back, break the temple's seal, and enter the River God's true lair—and uncover the real altar.
The River God had never expected Mo Hua to possess stealth techniques.
Even less had it expected that this brat would have such nerve—and such devious cunning!
It stared at Mo Hua, trembling with fury.
Mo Hua stood in front of the altar and gave the River God a squinty-eyed smirk.
The River God instantly realized what he was about to do, and roared in horror:
"You dare?!"
Naturally—Mo Hua dared.
With the speed of thunder, he grabbed the glass fishbowl and smashed it on the ground, then stomped every bloodfish inside into red pulp.
He then raised a foot and kicked over the offering table, turned around, and kicked the River God statue flat—even jumping on its head and snapping off its two ram horns!
Mo Hua's movements were lightning fast.
The River God was too far to stop him—it could only watch helplessly as Mo Hua ran rampant, wrecking the altar in moments.
The River God's heart bled.
This altar had taken it hundreds of years to build, with painstaking effort—and in the blink of an eye, it was completely destroyed.
Its fury boiled over. The blood-red color of its robes darkened into blackened crimson.
At the same time, as the altar shattered and the glazed bowl broke, the bloodfish inside the minds of Yu Dahe's sons began to wither and die, like fish pulled from water.
The children's mutations halted.
Mo Hua nodded inwardly.
"To destroy evil, one must eliminate it at the root. To drive out corruption, one must cure the source."
The altar was the key to it all.
Meanwhile, in the plaza, the kneeling fisherman-cultivators also had bloodfish dying inside their minds.
Their eyes gradually cleared.
Like waking from a nightmare, dazed awareness returned. One by one, they began regaining consciousness—and began exiting the dreamscape.
The entire River God Temple began to tremble faintly.
This collective nightmare had been constructed by the River God, but sustained by the faith of the fisherfolk.
Now that the altar was destroyed, the dreamscape had lost its anchor. And as the believers woke and withdrew, the nightmare's foundation crumbled.
The River God's eyes were now completely red.
It had been cautious enough—yet never imagined it would run into such a completely outrageous human brat today.
Not only was this one's divine sense absurdly strong, but his mind was also incredibly cunning and devious.
And now—by faking a move to the plaza and wrecking the altar—he had proven that he wasn't ignorant of the path of divinity.
In fact, he may even know a great deal.
The taboos of the divine path were only passed among deities—what little mortals knew was less than a drop in the ocean.
"Which damned traitor deity… spilled the secrets of the divine path… to this accursed brat who deserves a thousand cuts?!"
The River God's divine body began to twist and deform.
Its fish head bulged like a tumor, swelling and shrinking violently.
It was both rage—and the disintegration of the dreamscape—shaking its very foundation.
"Very well…"
The River God's voice was raspy and warped, its expression ghastly and terrifying.
"You wish to destroy my domain, sever my roots, erase my divine path…"
"Then I'll devour every mortal in sight, strengthen my divine sense—and then slowly torture you, little brat... skin you alive and swallow you whole!"
The River God turned into a blood river—and vanished in an instant.
Mo Hua's expression shifted sharply—something was wrong!
He immediately transformed into flowing water, rushing toward the plaza.
Upon arrival, he saw the plaza's center had become a scene of horror.
A monstrous fish beast, bloated head, grotesque body, blood-red scales, its whiskers as thick as tentacles, lashed in all directions—binding the fisherman-cultivators and sucking out their divine senses.
Those who had just awakened were wide-eyed in terror, struggling in panic.
Mo Hua instantly recognized the fish monster—it was the River God itself.
He activated his divine sense and manifested Five Elemental spells—golden blades, water arrows, and fireballs all at once, cutting and burning the blood-tentacles around the plaza.
But there were too many tentacles—Mo Hua simply couldn't sever them all.
Even his formations had little effect.
Meanwhile, the River God's power continued to grow. Its tendrils thickened. The evil intent on its body escalated, approaching a peak.
It even began to invoke a source of evil will that didn't belong to it.
Mo Hua's eyes narrowed—he recognized it immediately.
He had even "tasted" it once.
The Evil God of the Great Wastes…
Mo Hua's brow furrowed deeply. His expression turned grim. He gritted his teeth and began focusing his divine sense, preparing to conjure a large formation to counter the River God.
But before he could complete the manifestation, several blood-colored tendrils shot up from the ground and stabbed into his calves—binding him tight and hoisting him into the air before the River God.
Mo Hua struggled, but the tendrils were infused with the Great Wastes Evil God's will—extremely tough and unbreakable.
No matter how he fought, he couldn't break free.
The River God's voice turned cold, laced with mocking scorn:
"No use struggling…"
"I told you—your divine sense may be strong, but it's too balanced. Everything's strong—but nothing to the extreme."
"Not like that sword cultivator back then. His divine sense was far weaker than yours, but he turned his divine sense into a blade—sheer sharpness incarnate."
"That's why he could injure me. But you—you can't!"
"You can't break my divine body. In my nightmare, you're helpless against me."
Mo Hua, hearing this, stopped struggling—as if he'd given up resistance.
But a moment later, his crisp voice rang out again:
"But what if…"
Mo Hua looked at the River God, who was mere inches from him, and suddenly grinned radiantly.
"...What if I can also manifest a sword from divine sense?"
The River God froze. Then its pupils widened to the extreme, filled with utter terror.
At the same moment, a razor-sharp gleam of golden light erupted.
A vast and transformed divine sense, potent enough to rival the power of a god, surged into Mo Hua's right hand. It compressed, condensed—forging into the shape of a sword.
The sword form was rough, like an unfinished sword embryo. Yet the divine sense it held within was sharpened to the extreme, brimming with lethal killing intent.
It was like a sword formed from divine power itself—a divine ability forged from god-tier thought.
A thread of divine essence fused into the sword—sharpening its edge.
Mo Hua casually swung his arm.
A flash of pale golden light formed a golden line—effortlessly severing all the blood-colored tentacles of corrupted will in front of him.
Terror surged in the River God's eyes.
A sense of mortal danger gripped it—even more terrifying than the sword from hundreds of years ago.
The River God stumbled back, struggling to distance itself from Mo Hua, to get away from the boy holding that golden divine sword—a little Yama King in the flesh.
But it was too late.
Mo Hua flickered forward, appearing in front of it in an instant. His left hand pressed on the River God's shoulder, while his right hand held the sword of divine sense—and drove it in.
The golden light pierced through everything, punching straight through the River God's chest.
Just like the sword thrust from that swordsman centuries ago.
Only—his sword had been silver.
Mo Hua's—was gold.
Infused with divine essence, forged from powerful divine sense—it was a true sword of the divine.
The golden sword tore open the River God's chest.
The divine-sense-formed sword qi shredded the corrupted will within its chest into tatters.
A massive cloud of blood mist burst out, spraying in all directions.
The River God's will scattered. Its body deflated like a pierced balloon, shrinking and collapsing, ultimately reverting to its original form.
The fisherman-cultivators who'd been bound by the blood tentacles were also freed one by one.
Their eyes, still trembling with fear, turned toward the monstrous being at the center.
That… that was the River God?!
Having just awakened from their nightmare, the fishers were filled with dread, their faces riddled with confusion and disbelief.
And then—they saw something even more inconceivable…
A small cultivator, wrapped in soft golden light, holding a golden divine sword, dragged the River God onto a stone platform.
Then—with his left hand pressed on the River God's head—his right hand swung the sword.
A streak of blinding golden light flashed—
And with a clean, fluid motion, Mo Hua cut off the River God's head.
The sheer shock of that scene rattled every fisher's soul. Their minds reeled. They couldn't calm down for a long while.
The River God was decapitated by Mo Hua's divine-sense-forged sword.
The entire River God Temple lost its master. It shuddered violently and began to collapse.
The nightmare realm began to crumble rapidly.
The figures of the fishers gradually began to fade, one by one.
They were being forcibly ejected from the dream.
Yu Dahe's two children, Gu An, Gu Quan, and the others also began to wake from the nightmare…
The River God, its head severed by a divine sword, gradually melted into a pool of thick blood.
This pool was formed of corrupted will—but contained no trace of divine essence.
Mo Hua frowned. But with little time to spare, he inhaled sharply and swallowed all of the River God's corrupted will in one go.
There was no time to refine it yet.
Guessing he had a bit of time left, Mo Hua hurried back into the main hall and returned to the altar.
The altar had already been destroyed.
The River God statue had toppled, the offering table overturned, the glazed bowl shattered, and the grotesque offerings scattered everywhere—gradually twisting and evaporating into wisps of evil qi as the dream collapsed.
Mo Hua searched the altar top to bottom—but found nothing of real value.
No divine essence.
Nothing even worth eating.
The leftover evil qi wasn't even enough to stuff between his teeth—he completely dismissed it.
"This altar… is dirt poor."
Mo Hua sighed, turning to leave—when the corner of his eye caught something.
From the fallen statue of the River God, a small blood-colored fish was wriggling out.
"A fish that slipped through?"
Mo Hua immediately moved to crush it with his hand.
At that life-and-death moment, the little fish desperately twisted its body, flinging off all the filthy blood covering it—
Revealing a silver-white body.
A little silver fish?
Mo Hua blinked, slightly surprised. He noticed that the little silver fish had no evil aura, no taint of corrupted gods.
He felt a flicker of mercy and decided to spare its life.
The trembling silver fish bobbed its head toward Mo Hua repeatedly—as if bowing in thanks—then whooshed away, turning into a streak of silver light, vanishing into parts unknown.
(End of Chapter)