Chapter 721: The Calamity Begins
Cheng Mo and the others were puzzled.
"Senior Brother, what do you need all these strange things for?"
Mo Hua replied seriously,
"This matter concerns classified information from the Dao Court. I can't tell you much yet. And even I'm not fully certain until I've had a chance to study the materials."
Dao Court secrets?!
The disciples straightened up immediately.
As expected of their Senior Brother—even the Dao Court trusted him with confidential matters!
"But," one of them asked doubtfully,
"Encrypted letters I can understand, but blank jade slips or message tokens that have had their data erased… those should be useless, right?"
"No problem," Mo Hua said confidently. "I have my ways."
"O-oh… okay."
The disciples nodded in confusion.
Arrays based on Primordial Magnetic Formations were a bit obscure. They were technically a sub-branch of thunder-type Eight Trigram formations but weren't part of the mainstream Five Element Eight Trigram system.
The Great Void Sect didn't teach them, and disciples rarely encountered them. So they knew almost nothing about this subject.
That being said, not every goat horn was necessarily demonic—some really were just from mundane sheep monsters.
"The cultivator I interrogated answered flawlessly," one disciple added,
"But his eyes dodged a few times. Felt like he was hiding something."
Many of these bounties were issued through the Dao Court.
Most junior disciples could only take on the leftover, lower-difficulty tasks. Cheng Mo was lucky—he knew Mo Hua had some connections.
But the higher-value bounties were different—those were like the sect's Merit Pavilion, filled with rare resources and treasures. You had to fight for those.
Before even half a month passed, Mo Hua had amassed a full collection of strange artifacts.
Odds and ends, bits and pieces, all piled up.
And then, like clockwork, more disciples began showing up to "present offerings":
"Senior Brother! I used that method you taught me to catch a water-attribute thief! I found a strange bone on him—looks like it belonged to a water demon. Can you take a look?"
Unfortunately, no sign of any Demonic Sect Tokens yet.
"I thought it was fishy, so I pretended to leave, then snuck back and followed the guy. Turns out, he was wearing a human-skin mask to disguise himself! No idea what he was plotting…"
Some items were clearly demonic artifacts, but most were confiscated by the Dao Court when the cultivators were caught.
Still, Mo Hua did manage to get hold of one message token.
"If you find clues," Mo Hua added, "you can publish a bounty through the Dao Court. Even tagging along earns you contribution points."
The basic mechanics of Demonic Sect Tokens likely resembled that of the Great Void Sect's—built on Primordial Magnetic Arrays with expanded functionalities.
Though most of the evil tools were useless and yielded very little contribution credit, the disciples' eyes lit up at Mo Hua's words.
When they looked at him now, there was a hint of respect.
Being from a noble family and getting access to Dao Court missions through family ties—that was common.
But being able to coordinate with the Dao Court purely through one's own merit inside a sect—that was rare and impressive.
"I caught a pervert who was peeping on female cultivators! Got a jade slip off him. Please, Senior Brother, take a look…"
Most of the artifacts Mo Hua got were minor—scraps from the demonic world.
Still, if he could get his hands on one of those sect tokens, there'd be much more to "research."
Rumor had it that lately, some vicious devil cultivators were using such artifacts to slaughter other cultivators without mercy.
"Senior Brother, I found a broken sword. Not sure if it's worth anything…"
Mo Hua was able to use his deductive abilities to sense faint blood-colored karma lingering on some of these objects.
He theorized:
For this many devil cultivators to appear and coordinate, there must be some kind of structure—a small organization, or even a branch of a greater demonic sect.
Some of the tools also included goat horns.
Then one day, Yang Qianjun handed Mo Hua a message token and said:
"Cheng Mo and I were doing a mission near Qianxue Prefecture, in a Tier-2 Immortal City called Qingping City. On our way back, we saw a shady-looking cultivator—clearly not local—so we stopped and questioned him."
"Together, we subdued him and turned him over to the Dao Court. Everything he had was confiscated—except this one message token. It was wiped clean, so I brought it back for you."
Mo Hua took the token and examined it.
It was pale green, tinged with the smell of medicine and blood.
When he sent his spiritual sense into it, sure enough—it was completely blank. Everything had been erased.
At least, that's how it looked to most.
But Mo Hua's sharp eyes picked up what others couldn't:
Beneath the blank surface were layers of:
Chaotic floating magnetic runes
Fixed-pattern magnetic inscriptions
And obscured but indelible Secondary Thunder Runes
"Where it rains, it leaves traces. Where geese fly, they leave echoes."
All appearances leave behind clues—most people simply can't see them.
"Is that token actually useful?" Yang Qianjun asked, seeing Mo Hua so focused.
"Mm." Mo Hua nodded. "Thanks, Big Brother Yang."
Yang Qianjun chuckled,
"Glad I could help. No need to thank me, Senior Brother."
Yang Qianjun was a few years older than Mo Hua.
They each addressed the other in their own way:
Mo Hua called him "Big Brother," while Yang called Mo Hua "Senior Brother."
Back at his residence, Mo Hua began restoring the message token.
He was already highly skilled at the process.
On his brightly lit desk lay formation plates, parchment, brushes, and ink.
First, he dismantled the message token and copied the fixed magnetic inscriptions.
Then he cataloged the Secondary Thunder Runes.
Finally, he began simulating the token's function on a fresh formation plate.
Mo Hua had once received a copy of "Annotations on Fixed Magnetic Runes" from Old Mister Xun.
Thanks to that, he knew that what looked like messy symbols were actually a form of runic ideographic writing used in advanced array inscriptions.
Though the annotations weren't comprehensive, they covered enough to make do.
With them, Mo Hua was able to decode about 70–80% of the fixed runes' meaning.
He redrew the runes onto his formation plate.
Then he layered the Secondary Thunder Runes on top to simulate and reconstruct the erased message.
As the array circulated, magnetic patterns lit up—and one character at a time began to reappear:
"April… Fourteenth…"
"Fellow disciples of the same sect, gather at Qingping City…"
Then—an error.
Some characters didn't fully restore.
It was unclear if the fixed runes were transcribed wrong, or the thunder runes were distorted.
Mo Hua continued refining.
"Gather at Qingping City… to destroy…"
Destroy?
He paused. His eyes narrowed.
A heavy feeling rose in his chest.
He pushed the deduction further. The last two characters slowly came into view:
"…the entire clan."
Mo Hua froze.
He read the message in full:
"April 14th. Fellow disciples of the same sect. Gather at Qingping City. Destroy… the entire clan."
He drew a sharp breath.
Annihilation!
Scenes from Bìshān City surged in his mind—
the Xie Clan's destruction,
the sea of fire,
the screams,
the dismembered bodies,
the agony and desperation.
Mo Hua could barely believe it.
These devil cultivators were actually planning another extermination.
But… who?
The target of the massacre wasn't recovered in the message.
He checked again, reviewed every rune, cross-referenced, simulated—but it was no use.
He only knew this:
The target was in Qingping City.
As for which clan or which family, he had no idea.
Mo Hua frowned deeply.
Extermination of a Clan…
Could these devil cultivators also be pawns of the Evil God?
What was the purpose behind exterminating entire clans?
Mo Hua carefully recalled everything that had happened in the Qianxue Prefecture and gradually began to piece things together.
In the Tier-2 Immortal City of Bìshān, the Xie Clan had been wiped out.
Near Bìshān City, a Demonic Temple was built—inside, there was an altar.
By the Smoke-Water River, an old fishing village had also been effectively annihilated.
That village had become a missionary site for the Evil God, a place where nightmares merged with reality. A River God Temple had been constructed there, and deep within it was, again, an altar.
So then—could clan extermination be a precondition for constructing demonic temples and altars to the Evil God?
But why?
Mo Hua revisited everything he'd seen in the fishing village and made a chilling deduction:
To build an altar… requires the raising of monsters and demons.
After a massacre, the flesh and blood of cultivators are used to forge demonic creatures.
Their lingering souls are used to create malicious spirits and evil entities.
The blood rivers, walls of bone, and demonic formations within the temples—all use humans as building materials.
This was the case in the fishing village.
The Bìshān Demonic Lair hadn't been completed. Before the Dao Court stormed it, the Fire Buddha had destroyed most of the evidence. Only a few clues remained.
But Mo Hua suspected the structure and purpose were likely the same.
"Everything follows rules. Even evil gods—when preaching, sacrificing, or building altars—must adhere to certain ritual procedures."
"To treat all life as sacrificial beasts, to regard the masses as livestock… this is the way of the Evil God."
Mo Hua's gaze turned cold as he sighed deeply.
But then a doubt arose:
To conduct such atrocities right under the Dao Court's nose, there had to be a mole within the Dao Court.
And to lead a group of mad, dangerous devil cultivators in carrying out secret massacres… that would require a powerhouse of equal cultivation realm with brutal methods.
Previously, it had been the Fire Buddha—at the peak of the Foundation Establishment realm, cultivating forbidden techniques.
But now the Fire Buddha was dead. So… who could be doing this?
Mo Hua had no answer.
"April 14th… that's only four days away…"
In just four days, yet another clan would be targeted for extermination?
A chill crept into Mo Hua's heart.
But… he was currently under "house arrest" and forbidden to leave the sect…
He thought for a moment, then quickly sent a message to Uncle Gu (Gu Changhuai):
"Uncle Gu, in Qingping City, four days from now, devil cultivators will attempt a clan extermination…"
Uncle Gu was silent for a long time before finally replying:
"How do you know that?"
Mo Hua was just about to answer—then paused, puzzled.
Uncle Gu didn't ask "What do you mean?" or "Where did you hear that?"—he specifically asked "How do you know that?"
That meant—he already knew.
Mo Hua was surprised:
"Uncle Gu, you knew about this already?"
Gu Changhuai replied, a bit helpless:
"We captured a few criminal cultivators. After intense interrogation, we extracted some clues…"
Then he asked again:
"How did you find out?"
It made sense. As a Patrolling Officer of the Dao Court, it was Gu Changhuai's job to maintain order and hunt down criminal cultivators. So learning of such a plot was within his jurisdiction.
But Mo Hua… was a mere sect disciple who hadn't even left the premises.
How could he know about the devil cultivators' secret plans?
This message was barely two days old!
Gu Changhuai's brow furrowed.
Mo Hua answered truthfully:
"I restored a message token… and saw the contents."
Ah, a message token…
Gu Changhuai sighed inwardly. As expected.
These array masters were truly outrageous.
His Dao Court officers had worked tirelessly, day and night—staking out suspects, chasing leads, and applying torture—just to wring out a fragment of intelligence from some devil cultivators.
Meanwhile, this kid, Mo Hua, picked up a single message token… cracked it open… and got the whole story.
People like that make others want to cry from jealousy.
Of course, Gu Changhuai also knew well:
His people were doing the grunt work. Mo Hua was doing the high-level technical work.
Especially the kind of work Mo Hua did—involving obscure, sophisticated formation techniques—was far more difficult than surveillance or interrogation.
Gu Changhuai sighed again.
He didn't even dare imagine how monstrous Mo Hua's mastery of array formations might become in the future.
"Don't tell anyone else," Gu Changhuai warned.
"If word leaks, the devil cultivators might flee."
"Mm-hmm. I understand." Mo Hua nodded obediently. Then he asked:
"Uncle Gu, do you know which clan the devil cultivators are targeting?"
Gu Changhuai hesitated slightly and answered:
"Not yet."
"What does the Dao Court plan to do then?" Mo Hua pressed.
Gu Changhuai remained silent.
Mo Hua quickly added:
"No need to say much—just a little bit of what you can share is fine."
Gu Changhuai paused, then sighed:
"Which clan they're after… doesn't matter."
Mo Hua instantly understood:
"You're laying a trap in the city—a net from which they can't escape. Once the devil cultivators show themselves, attempting a massacre, you'll spring the trap and wipe them out."
"So it doesn't actually matter which clan they're targeting."
"Is that right, Uncle Gu?"
Gu Changhuai: "..."
You've already said everything—what more can I even add?
"What else am I supposed to say when you've already said everything?"
"…More or less." Gu Changhuai replied vaguely.
Mo Hua thought for a moment, then suddenly said,
"Uncle Gu, Qingping City is a Tier-2 Immortal City. It's not small. You Dao Court folks might not have enough manpower…"
Gu Changhuai immediately grew wary. "What are you trying to do?"
Mo Hua lowered his voice mysteriously,
"How about… I find you a few extra helpers?"
Gu Changhuai scoffed.
"No need for you to worry about that. Just stay put in the sect, cultivate properly, and study your formations. Don't go thinking about all this nonsense."
"We might not have abundant manpower at the Dao Court, but we're not at the point where we need a junior like you to lend a hand…"
Mo Hua mumbled quietly,
"Qianxue Prefecture… Tier-2 Immortal City… devil cultivators gathering to massacre a clan… if they're bold enough to do this…"
"There must be a mole inside the Dao Court."
"Uncle Gu, do you really trust your own people?"
That question left Gu Changhuai silent.
Everyone understood—though unspoken—that there were moles.
And to lay an ambush in Qingping City, to turn the city into a trap, required a lot of manpower.
Outside of the Gu family's own cultivators, others from the Dao Court would inevitably be involved.
He could vouch for the Gu clan. But the rest of the Dao Court?
Who knew what lurked in their hearts—whether black or white?
After pondering for a while, Gu Changhuai finally asked,
"…Where are you getting your manpower?"
He was genuinely curious.
Mo Hua puffed up proudly.
"All from the Great Void Sect—my own sect brothers and sisters. We're tight, and their backgrounds are spotless—definitely cleaner than your Dao Court people."
Plus, they all call me "Little Senior Brother!"
Gu Changhuai's eyes froze. He was surprised.
This kid's connections in the Great Void Sect were getting more and more impressive.
Still, Gu hesitated, "No. It's too dangerous. Those devil cultivators are at least mid-to-late Foundation Establishment."
Mo Hua replied,
"It's fine. They won't be fighting head-on—just helping to form the net, guarding the perimeter, picking off the stragglers."
The front-line danger would still be handled by seasoned and battle-hardened Dao Court enforcers.
Gu Changhuai gave a slight nod.
In that case… it might be workable.
He narrowed his eyes and asked, "You just want to get them contribution points, don't you?"
"Of course!" Mo Hua answered righteously.
"There's no such thing as a free chicken leg in this world!"
He added,
"…Besides, I know you, Uncle Gu. I'm willing to help out for free, even take a few hits."
"But they're not like me—they're all sons of noble families, with reputations to uphold. If they go on a mission and come back empty-handed, it just wouldn't look right."
Gu Changhuai curled his lip.
This little brat was full of nonsense.
He never helped out for free—if anything, it was usually others who got taken advantage of.
"…Fine," Gu sighed in resignation.
Mo Hua cautiously asked,
"Then how much contribution will they get?"
"Two hundred," Gu replied.
Mo Hua shook his head. "At least four hundred."
Gu groaned. His head started to ache.
After a lengthy round of reluctant bargaining, they finally settled on: three hundred contribution points.
Mo Hua had done his best.
As "Little Senior Brother," this was the most he could secure for them.
Still, three hundred points was no small number for a regular disciple.
The next day, during lunch at the mess hall, Mo Hua quietly told Cheng Mo:
"There's a big job. I'll need around fifty people.
If successful—each one gets three hundred contribution points."
Cheng Mo's heart skipped a beat.
Fifty people? Three hundred each?
This really was a big one!
"Little Senior Brother, where'd this job come from?" Cheng Mo leaned in and whispered.
Mo Hua replied,
"I can't tell you the details just yet—you'll find out when the time comes. But this task is risky. We'll need veterans."
Cheng Mo nodded. "Of course."
"And also," Mo Hua added,
"We need people we know—people we trust. No leaks allowed."
"Also try to avoid those from noble families within Qian Prefecture. Pick those with no messy ties."
"If they are from Qian Prefecture, they need to be people you're really close to—like Hao Xuan."
Cheng Mo was curious, but he'd always trusted Mo Hua.
What Mo Hua said—was what it was.
No need for extra questions.
"Don't worry, Little Senior Brother," Cheng Mo patted his chest.
"Leave it to me!"
He quietly recruited fifty disciples.
Aside from familiar faces like Situ Jian, Yang Qianjun, Hao Xuan, and Yi Li, most of the others were reliable and trustworthy disciples with whom they'd had past dealings.
And with three hundred points as the bait—
There was no reason to refuse.
Everyone agreed almost instantly.
Mo Hua scanned the group with his divine sense, sweeping across them all.
He nodded in satisfaction.
Manpower—secured.
Then, Mo Hua went back to his old tricks:
He "colluded" with Gu Changhuai in the Dao Court, working from both the inside and outside.
Using his razor-sharp divine sense and lightning reflexes, he snatched up a high-reward but vague and ambiguous bounty at the designated time…
Right in front of a crowd of senior brothers and sisters.
Like stealing a big, juicy slab of meat from under a pack of hungry wolves…
(End of Chapter)