Chapter 1167: Vermilion Bird Mountain Realm
Having conquered seven mountain realms, along with the names Elder Zhamu secretly investigated and brought back, over the span of more than two years, Mo Hua had devoured over a hundred Barbarian Gods, big and small.
The surrounding Barbarian Gods had nearly been driven to the brink of "endangerment" by this walking calamity called Mo Hua.
Only a small portion survived—those who acted like proper "gods," treated their believers kindly, and diligently fulfilled their duties.
Also surviving were those adept at hiding, who, the moment the winds shifted, scurried into the mountains like rats and stayed out of sight—thus escaping Mo Hua's great calamity.
After consuming more than a hundred Barbarian Gods, Mo Hua's divine sense had grown considerably.
He had now reached around the mid-level of twenty-two runes.
This pace actually wasn't bad—but it still fell far short of Mo Hua's expectations.
According to his calculations, having hunted and devoured this many Barbarian Gods, his divine sense should be even stronger—at the very least, nearing twenty-three runes.
But things hadn't gone as expected.
One possible reason was that he had consumed too many Barbarian Gods—developing a resistance.
The enhancement of divine sense was now showing diminishing returns.
Another possibility was that the quality of the Barbarian Gods he devoured was simply too low.
Trying to advance twenty-two-rune Golden Core-level divine sense by feasting on second-grade Barbarian Gods was… honestly pathetic.
Truth be told, reaching his current progress was already a pleasant surprise.
If he had been feeding on ordinary second-grade evil spirits instead, the gain would have been almost negligible.
And in the first place, cultivating and enhancing divine sense was always a gruelingly difficult task.
Even Foundation Establishment cultivators struggled bitterly just to improve divine sense at their own level.
Let alone someone like Mo Hua—still in Foundation Establishment, yet trying to temper Golden Core-level divine sense and push it even further? That was practically climbing to heaven itself.
"No matter how I look at it, a third-grade mountain realm is something I absolutely must visit…"
Mo Hua sighed softly, then couldn't help but lift his head to gaze at the vast, dusky skies of the Great Wilderness—where streaks of crimson firelight shimmered faintly. His heart felt heavy.
For over two years now, he had been trapped in this desolate land—towering mountains, treacherous terrain, cut off in all directions, with endless wastelands outside and no sense of direction. Even if he wanted to leave, he couldn't.
He had no way of knowing what was happening in the outside world.
How was the war between the Dao Court and the Great Wilderness going?
How far had the Dao Court's armies advanced? Just how brutal was the clash with the Great Wilderness?
Had Yang Jishan and Yang Jiyong managed to escape death, or were they killed during that coup on the night the Great Wilderness Sect revolted?
And what of the fate of the Great Wilderness Sect?
After its betrayal, how had the Dao Court responded?
Would the sect be branded as rebels and face suppression by the Dao Court—possibly even be wiped out completely?
What about Dà Hu? (Big Tiger)
Wasn't he still in the Great Wilderness Sect—would he be implicated too?
Why had Dà Hu changed so drastically—becoming silent and ruthless? What had he gone through in the sect?
And what about Shuāng-Hu (Second Tiger) and Sān-Hu (Third Tiger)? Where had they gone?
Mo Hua had no answers. A cloud of uncertainty slowly gathered over his heart.
Once again, he focused on the deep crimson skies above, burning like flowing blood. His brows furrowed.
The heavens themselves seemed to be showing signs—portents of fate stirring.
Such celestial omens contained mysteries of heaven. With his current realm and level of insight, he naturally couldn't decipher them.
But just looking at the sky filled him with a vague sense of urgency—a chill that clung to his heart, impossible to shake.
It felt as though, beneath the chaos of war in the Great Wilderness, something else… some deeper conspiracy… was hidden.
"Has someone… already reached their hand deep into the Great Wilderness?"
Mo Hua's pupils grew deeper and darker.
…
Since he had already made up his mind, it was best to act quickly and make preparations early.
The current situation was murky—no one knew when catastrophe or upheaval might suddenly strike.
Before that, he had to study the Heavenly Secrets, form his Golden Core, resolve calamities through karmic cause & effect, and use the Golden Core cultivation as a means of self-preservation.
Mo Hua's heart grew heavier. He dared not delay any further—afraid that any hesitation could bring unforeseen change and chaos.
The next day, he summoned Wusha, Jiao Li, and the other Barbarian commanders, along with Elder Zhamu, Elder Jiao Hu, and various tribal chiefs and elders from the allied clans. Then he declared:
"Last night, while observing the celestial omens, I received a divine revelation from the Divine-Lord and came to understand the path I must walk. I therefore need to set out and spread the Divine-Lord's blessings—at the shortest, I'll be gone a month; at most, half a year."
"During this time, all affairs of the allied tribes will be entrusted to you. You must devote yourselves fully and serve the Divine-Lord with utmost loyalty."
"Training troops, forging armor, hunting monsters, cultivating spirit plants, preaching and teaching—all must continue without slack."
"Anyone with disloyal thoughts shall suffer divine punishment from the Divine-Lord."
Though surprised, the crowd still respectfully bowed and said:
"We shall obey Lord Shaman's command. May the Divine-Lord be eternal!"
Mo Hua responded solemnly: "May the Divine-Lord be eternal."
After that, he arranged all the specific duties.
Forging armor would be entirely overseen by Elder Jiao Hu, with Jiao Li and Wusha balancing each other, to prevent rebellion among the Barbarian cultivators.
The task of preaching and teaching was temporarily entrusted to Elder Zhamu.
Little Zha-Tu, who had studied under Mo Hua for a long time and was quite gifted, could also serve as a temporary "substitute teacher."
Once everything was set, that very night, Mo Hua quietly departed—alone, heading for the nearby third-grade mountain realm.
This time, Mo Hua planned to stay there for a while.
He wanted to personally investigate and observe, to understand the situation thoroughly. Only by knowing the enemy and knowing himself could he win a hundred battles without fail.
Disguised and hidden, Mo Hua traveled for several days on foot. Leaving the Black-Horn Mountain Realm, he crossed treacherous peaks alone and, after some time, finally arrived at the southwestern third-grade mountain realm.
He had visited this mountain realm once before, but only had time for a quick glance—barely understanding the surface, without any deep investigation.
Back then, he hadn't seriously considered attacking this third-grade realm.
But now things had changed. The surrounding second-grade realms had already been conquered, and most of his tasks were done.
All that remained was time—to solidify his territory, slowly build up power, lay a sturdy foundation, and let promising seedlings grow…
Time was essential.
Mo Hua also had to find ways to keep advancing and expanding outward.
A third-grade mountain realm was a hurdle he had no choice but to cross.
So this time, Mo Hua approached his reconnaissance far more seriously.
Over the following month, he remained hidden, moving through the third-grade mountain realm—observing, recording, analyzing, and thinking. He continuously compared data and gradually gained a relatively deep understanding of the situation.
But the more he learned, the colder his heart grew.
This mountain realm was the only third-grade realm nearby—and its strength was formidable.
Mo Hua had known that much already.
But now, after deeper investigation—
He discovered that the number of Golden Core cultivators—especially late-stage ones—the tribal forces, and the strength of their Barbarian cultivators were all significantly greater than he had initially estimated from his brief glance.
Their tribal system was strict, their Barbarian armor refined, their warriors strong, and they even raised spirit beasts…
Because this was the Barbarian race—cloaked in the appearance of "savagery"—Mo Hua had subconsciously looked down on them before, thinking they were nothing special.
But over the past two years, after conquering five mountain realms and over a hundred smaller tribes, and studying their traditions, texts, and languages, he had gained a deeper understanding of the Barbarian heritage. The "savagery filter" had been stripped away.
Now, looking again—Mo Hua suddenly realized:
He had indeed underestimated this mountain realm—the only third-grade realm near Wutu and Black-Horn.
And it wasn't just a strong third-grade mountain realm.
It was practically a peak-tier, flourishing, quasi-fourth-grade mountain realm.
The number of late-stage Golden Core Barbarian cultivators here was frankly staggering.
Their upper- and mid-tier power was profoundly deep. This was essentially the foundation of a fourth-grade realm.
In fact, with the addition of a few Nascent Soul cultivators, it could already be called a "fourth-grade" realm.
Such a thriving third-grade realm was on a completely different level from nearby small realms like Wutu and Black-Horn—it was an absolute curb-stomp in terms of power, not even in the same dimension.
That alone was highly irregular.
It defied the usual logic of regional layouts seen in the Nine Provinces.
Mo Hua had never expected the Great Wilderness to have such a strange distribution of power.
This kind of thing was nearly impossible in the Nine Provinces.
There, adjacent and transitional realms were typically balanced and gradual in strength.
For example, in the Qianxue region, one would find fourth-grade and third-grade realms, gradually transitioning to smaller second-grade areas—without any extreme power gaps.
There wouldn't suddenly be a colossal beast among a group of shrimps.
The only exception was the "siphon" layout model.
In some cases, a realm that originally wasn't strong absorbed all the surrounding weak realms, turning them into "shrimps" while becoming a behemoth itself.
That could create these massive power disparities.
But the Great Wilderness was clearly not such a case.
This peak third-grade mountain realm had almost no interaction with Wutu and Black-Horn—and there was no "siphoning" phenomenon.
Wutu and Black-Horn didn't even have the kind of resources worth siphoning in the first place.
That was what made this so strange…
Mo Hua's expression grew increasingly grim.
Things were deviating from his original expectations.
This mountain realm was far more complicated than he had imagined.
Mo Hua became even more low-profile, using his concealment arts with extra caution—afraid of being noticed by powerful Golden Core experts.
He continued investigating for a while longer, even secretly observing tribal totems and inscriptions in prominent areas, eavesdropping on some Barbarian cultivators' conversations.
Only then did Mo Hua finally realize:
This realm was definitely not your average third-grade mountain realm.
Most of the tribes within it originated from the same ancestor. They shared similar inheritance lines and bore similar totems.
All the totems were related to fire and birds.
When those totems were overlaid and pieced together, the overall outline resembled a flaming red divine bird.
This made Mo Hua immediately think of one of the Four Auspicious Beasts of the Great Wilderness:
"Vermilion Bird."
Many tribes in this mountain realm even had names related to "Vermilion Bird."
"Vermilion Bird Mountain Realm?"
Mo Hua was truly shocked.
But the more he thought about it, the more questions arose.
The Vermilion Bird was one of the Four Divine Beasts. Its status should be exalted. How could it become the totem of a mere third-grade mountain realm?
Or… was this simply a lineage within the Barbarian tribes that worshipped the Vermilion Bird?
The Azure Dragon symbolized the Great Wilderness royal clan.
Then what of the Vermilion Bird? What kind of position did it hold among the tribes of the Great Wilderness?
Was it just a symbol?
Or was it possible that… within this mountain realm… there was an actual Vermilion Bird divine beast?
…
The origins of the Vermilion Bird in the Great Wilderness were too mysterious. Mo Hua couldn't figure it out for now.
But what was clear, was another far more pressing issue: This mountain realm was simply… unbeatable.
They worshiped the divine beast Vermilion Bird. A peak-tier third-grade, bordering on fourth-rank realm—also known as "pseudo-fourth-grade"—mountain realm.
With over a dozen tribes.
Dozens of late-stage Golden Core cultivators.
And a whole flock of Golden Core elders…
Mo Hua's scalp went numb. How the hell was he supposed to fight that?!
Fight this? Are you kidding?
Not all third-rank realms were created equal.
A threshold-level third-rank realm was worlds apart from this peak-level "Vermilion Bird" realm. The difference was night and day.
"Can't fight them… then what?"
Mo Hua furrowed his brows, pondering deeply.
The disparity in raw power was simply too vast—he couldn't win, and that was that.
But if he didn't fight, the whole situation would just remain deadlocked.
The Great Wilderness was sealed off, surrounded by desolate badlands. There was no way out.
As for the Wutu and Black-Horn sides, he'd already fought everything that could be fought.
What was he supposed to do? Just sit on those second-rank mountain realms, sip tea, and laze away a couple of decades?
That'd be a total waste of time—by then, even the "yellow chrysanthemums" would've gone cold. ([idiom: the moment would've long passed])
Mo Hua reevaluated the overall situation in the Great Wilderness, calculated his fortune, and reflected on everything he had done so far—then suddenly, he realized something:
Wait a second… why did he have to "fight" at all?
His identity in the Great Wilderness wasn't that of a "conqueror" or a "destroyer." It was "Shaman."
Or more accurately, he should be something closer to a teacher.
A teacher who imparts knowledge, offers guidance, and helps others find clarity.
Since he was a teacher—why resort to violence?
What a teacher should be doing… is nurturing talent.
Talent was the most valuable resource.
If he could cultivate students with enough potential, they could accomplish things he himself could not—changing the very landscape of the Great Wilderness.
"Talent…"
Mo Hua murmured thoughtfully.
Xiao Zha-Tu and the others were students he'd personally raised. One day, they might be capable of holding their own and becoming true talents in their own right.
But they were still too young. In terms of cultivation, temperament, conduct, status—every aspect still fell short.
Right now, they were still in the process of cultivation and learning. They couldn't really contribute yet.
Their future looked bright—but the present was another story.
In other words, if he wanted to develop inside the Vermilion Bird Mountain Realm, what he needed was someone useful—a talent with real influence.
This person couldn't be too young, and their background had to be respectable.
They needed a sincere heart and lofty aspirations...
But people like that—were rare even in the Central Plains.
Let alone here in the Great Wilderness.
"Still, this realm is a peak third-rank mountain realm, with long-standing worship of the Vermilion Bird divine beast…"
"With such a vast land, so many barbarian cultivators, and such an ancient history—is it really too much to hope for a few talented individuals?"
Mo Hua thus began traveling in secret—either by hiding his presence or going in disguise—conducting both open and covert investigations throughout the Vermilion Bird Mountain Realm, seeking a disciple who truly moved his heart.
But after a long search—he had nothing to show for it.
Just as he suspected, this kind of "talent" was incredibly rare.
Geniuses in the Great Wilderness either had raw talent but poor temperament...
Or they had decent temperament but lacked diligence.
Those from noble birth? Most were arrogant, dismissive of others, and looked down on commoners.
No matter how he searched—none of them fit the bill.
With no better option, Mo Hua resorted to using the demon bone divination of the Great Wilderness—lighting the bone and silently meditating as he sought guidance through the flames:
"The disciple I seek… where are they?"
Cracks began to form all over the demon bone, glowing a fiery red from within. And amidst the fractured lines—two ancient characters of the barbarian script emerged:
丹雀 (Crimson Sparrow)
And then, all traces of the divination faded away.
Mo Hua erased every mark of the ritual, eyes narrowing in thought as he murmured to himself:
"Crimson Sparrow… does that refer to the Crimson Sparrow Tribe?"
The Crimson Sparrow Tribe was one of the top-ranking tribes in the entire third-rank mountain realm. Even their name closely echoed the Vermilion Bird—hinting at deep ancestral ties.
"So the meaning of the divination is… my disciple lies within the Crimson Sparrow Tribe?"
Mo Hua pondered briefly, then made his way toward the tribe.
The Crimson Sparrow Tribe was a major powerful clan, with multiple late-stage Golden Core cultivators and a good number of mid- and early-stage ones too.
They also occupied a vast stretch of mountainous territory.
In the basin nestled between the mountains lay the tribe's main base of operations.
Beyond the basin, scattered across the surrounding mountains and foothills, were numerous subsidiary settlements—smaller offshoots of the Crimson Sparrow Tribe, distant bloodline branches, affiliated clans through marriage, and even some settlements of barbarian slaves.
This was the hallmark of large tribes: the bigger the tribe, the more barbarian slaves it had subdued through war.
And the more slaves it kept, the more abundant the tribe's supplies became, and the stronger its power grew.
In the Great Wilderness, social hierarchies were quite rigid—downright severe, even.
Mo Hua slightly "disguised" himself. He smeared bronze-colored ink over his skin, painted some decorative Four Symbols demon patterns on his body, threw on some barbarian beast-hide garb, and spoke entirely in a thick barbarian accent. Before long, he had blended seamlessly into the Crimson Sparrow Tribe.
He couldn't infiltrate the tribe's core inner circle.
But among the outer periphery—the smaller settlements, remote branches, and affiliated kin tribes—Mo Hua moved freely, as if he were a fish in water.
If nothing else, the flashy and intricate barbarian tattoos on his body were enough to make local barbarian cultivators revere him.
Not to mention, his temperament and bearing were unmistakably extraordinary.
When some curious cultivators asked about his background, Mo Hua merely gave them a calm, indifferent glance—and immediately, they felt inferior and dared not speak further.
He also demonstrated just a touch of his skills in array techniques—just enough for others to regard him as a man of great expertise.
Some even whispered, "This distinguished guest, so young yet so extraordinary, will surely enter the Royal Court one day… and become a Shaman."
And just like that, it wasn't long before Mo Hua became a "distinguished guest" among the smaller Crimson Sparrow settlements.
He began searching among these tribes for the kind of "disciple" he had in mind.
But after more than a month of searching, he still hadn't found anyone.
This kind of needle-in-a-haystack endeavor—even with hints of karmic fate—was never going to be easy.
"Am I looking in the wrong place? Or… is my 'disciple' not among these small and outlying tribes?"
Mo Hua frowned in thought.
"Who is the disciple I'm looking for…?"
A few days later, Mo Hua was casually chatting while teaching some barbarian cultivators how to draw rudimentary demon patterns on their armor.
At the same time, he kept his ears open and his divine sense extended, listening for any useful information.
At that moment, a name suddenly reached his ears—one that made him sit up and take notice:
"Dan Zhu."
The Crimson Sparrow Tribe's Young Lord.
A youth of astonishing talent, born with a natural Dao Heart—built his Foundation at ten, formed a Golden Core by twenty.
(End of this Chapter)