Chapter 1171: He Will Die
Dan Bie was a little speechless and let out a cold laugh:
"What nonsense are you spouting? This is the Great Wilderness. There's never been some so-called 'Divine Lord' preaching about all beings being equal…"
Among the other guests of the Vermillion Sparrow Tribe, someone chuckled:
"Saying things like 'cultivation realm and power are the same'... is he an idiot? Realm is the foundation of the Dao, and cultivation is the core of one's Dao. Foundation Establishment and Golden Core — they're worlds apart! How could there not be a difference?"
The crowd grew somewhat restless.
Some laughed softly, others shook their heads. Some looked at Dan Zhu, but said nothing.
Once the murmuring quieted down a bit, Dan Bie looked at Mo Hua and said indifferently:
"Our Vermillion Sparrow Tribe is a major tribe. Our ancestors once entered the Great Wilderness's Vermilion Bird Royal Court. We're not some crude barbarian clan who'd believe your baseless blabber."
"We know full well what a Shaman is."
"So tell me—just where are you from, 'Mister Shaman'? And this 'Divine Lord' of yours… exactly who are they?"
"Why have you come to my Vermillion Sparrow Tribe? What are you really after?"
On the high platform, surrounded by beautiful concubines, the tall and muscular Great Chieftain of the Vermillion Sparrow Tribe also turned to look. His gaze landed on Mo Hua—heavy with pressure and absolutely devoid of goodwill.
Dan Zhu, seeing Mo Hua being questioned, spoke up:
"Father…"
But the Great Chieftain shook his head, stopping Dan Zhu from continuing. Instead, he looked directly at Mo Hua and spoke with a deep, authoritative voice:
"According to the tribal laws, impersonating a Shaman is a capital offense. The punishment is dismemberment by chariots."
"Your corpse will be thrown into the deep mountains, fed to the Black Sparrows—never to reincarnate…"
Mo Hua's heart sank slightly.
As expected, these chieftains and elders of the Vermillion Sparrow Tribe were sharp and shrewd—no fools to be tricked easily.
Not like Dan Zhu, this "child," so upright and naïve.
Hearing that Mo Hua might be dismembered, Dan Zhu suddenly stood up, panicked:
"Father! Mister Shaman was invited here personally by me! He—"
The Great Chieftain waved his hand and said sternly:
"Dan Zhu, you are my youngest son. I care for you deeply. But you do not understand the treacherous hearts of the world. This man deliberately approached you—surely with ulterior motives. For your sake, and for the sake of the tribe, I must be cautious."
Dan Zhu wanted to say—it wasn't Mister Shaman who deliberately approached him.
It was he himself who, in a dream, received a "revelation" from a divine being. That's why he went out and sought out the Shaman.
Moreover, Mister Shaman didn't even know who he was.
It was he who warmly invited him—Mister Shaman only came to the Vermillion Sparrow Tribe because of that.
There was nothing "deliberate" about it.
But just as he opened his mouth, Dan Zhu didn't know how to explain. After all, saying that a god gave him a dream… sounded far too mystical to be taken seriously.
Dan Zhu grew anxious.
Mo Hua, however, remained utterly calm—neither joyful nor fearful.
The Great Chieftain glanced at him and asked:
"You're not afraid?"
Mo Hua's gaze was steady as he replied:
"My fate has already been given to the Divine Lord. If the Divine Lord wills me to die, then I shall die. But if the Divine Lord forbids my death, then no worldly man, no heretical deity, no demon or ghost—can lay even a finger on me."
An aura of unwavering faith radiated from Mo Hua's entire being.
It was as though, in his eyes, in his heart, even in his very soul—and every part of his life—there existed only one thing: devout faith in the Divine.
This was also an unconventional use of the "Seeding a Demon in the Dao Heart" technique.
Mo Hua had seeded his own heart—making himself believe, with absolute conviction. And so, he genuinely believed himself to be the most devout follower in the world.
And this image he projected—that of someone who had devoted his entire life to the service of a great divine cause—made him look even more like a Shaman than most actual Shamans.
Even though he was only in the Foundation Establishment Realm, with the "faith" of a Divine Lord upon him, his entire presence radiated a solemn, untouchable power.
For a moment, everyone present felt a jolt in their hearts—restless and unsure.
Even Dan Bie found himself briefly doubting:
"Could this mysterious, god-preaching youth… actually be a true Shaman?"
Only the Great Chieftain, seated above them all, had the eyes of a hawk—deep and sharp.
He neither confirmed nor denied anything, but simply said:
"Prove your identity."
"If you have the ability to prove you're a Shaman, my Vermillion Sparrow Tribe will naturally welcome you with the highest tribal rites."
"Otherwise…"
His gaze turned razor-sharp.
He didn't finish the sentence, but the meaning was crystal clear.
If Mo Hua couldn't prove he was a Shaman, then the Vermillion Sparrow Tribe would naturally treat him as a heretic—an infiltrator with malicious intent. He would face execution… and be dismembered to feed monsters.
Honestly, that did sound reasonable.
Mo Hua's gaze flickered slightly.
But how exactly was he supposed to prove he was a Shaman?
In some backwater corner of the wilderness, bluffing might work. But here, in the Vermillion Sparrow Tribe—it wouldn't be so easy.
Mo Hua's mind raced rapidly.
A jade slip or document from the Great Wilderness Royal Court?
But he was a fraud—he had none of that stuff.
Even the deceased "Mister Wu (Shaman)" from the Azure Wolf Sect of Lìzhōu hadn't left anything behind that could truly prove his Shaman identity.
Mo Hua did possess the "Dragon Banner" used by the rebels in the Great Wilderness.
But that was definitely not something he could reveal.
If word got out—or worse, if a powerful figure deduced it through karmic means—
Then his title as "Dao Court's #1 Most Wanted Rebel " would be set in stone. Not even a dive into the Yellow River could wash that stain clean.
Other than that… his only option was the "Sacred Patterns" of the Four Symbols system of formations.
But the Vermillion Sparrow Tribe was a major tribe, not some backward group like the Wutu or Black-Horn Tribes. They very likely had a fairly complete inheritance of the Four Symbols Formation arts.
What Mo Hua didn't know was the level of their Four Symbols knowledge.
Nor could he tell what level of formation he needed to draw to hit the sweet spot—proving his identity as a Shaman, earning respect, and not exposing his true strength.
That line was hard to walk.
If he drew something too simple, it'd be like "showing off in front of a master carpenter"—he'd look like a joke, and would fail to convince the Great Chieftain.
But if he drew something too advanced, say… one of the dragon-summoning arrays like the "Ten Thousand Beasts Returning to the Dragon" formation he was researching— Then it'd touch upon the lore of the Dragon-Creation Diagram.
And Mo Hua wasn't sure if that might violate taboos of the Great Wilderness Royal Court.
What if the Vermillion Sparrow Tribe mistook him for a traitor and beheaded him on the spot?
He needed to show them he was skilled in Sacred Patterns and arrays—but not so skilled that they saw him as a threat.
In short—he had to gamble.
But Mo Hua was new here. He didn't know much about the Vermillion Sparrow Tribe, and he had no way to gauge the tribe's boundaries accurately.
"Besides Sacred Patterns, what else…?"
Just as he hesitated, Mo Hua's gaze happened to drift to the platform.
Unconsciously, his eyes were drawn to a guard standing about ten zhang (30 meters) from the Great Chieftain's right hand.
The guard was wearing barbarian armor, young and handsome.
But his forehead—was jet black. And not just dark—it was ominously black.
Mo Hua's heart stirred slightly. After a brief pause, his eyes sharpened. He lifted his hand and pointed directly at that guard, solemnly declaring:
"That man… will die."
The guard who'd been pointed at jolted in shock.
Even the Great Chieftain on the high seat showed a faint tremor in his eyes.
Dan Bie blinked, then scoffed:
"Well that's obvious—everyone dies eventually."
Mo Hua shook his head and replied slowly:
"No. It's different. Unless one attains the Dao and becomes immortal, death is inevitable. But this man will die… soon."
Dan Bie replied coldly:
"No need to be so cryptic. Quit the smoke and mirrors. Be clear—how many days until he dies?"
Mo Hua stared at the pitch-black aura on the guard's forehead, mentally calculated for a moment, then said:
"One day."
"One day?"
"Yes." Mo Hua nodded. "This is a revelation from the Divine Lord. This man will die… within a single day."
Dan Bie was slightly startled.
He had expected Mo Hua to buy time—maybe say seven days… even three would've been reasonable.
But just one? Wasn't this guy practically throwing himself onto the guillotine?
"Good!" Dan Bie declared. "Then one day it is. If this guard dies within a day, I will acknowledge you as a true 'Shaman,' and the Vermillion Sparrow Tribe will treat you as an honored guest."
He grinned and added:
"But if he not only doesn't die, but lives just fine—then you're a fake. You've committed the capital offense of impersonating a Shaman and blaspheming in the name of the Divine. The Vermillion Sparrow Tribe will execute you without mercy…"
Dan Zhu frowned.
"Third Brother, that's not fair."
Dan Bie sighed:
"Dear brother, I'm only doing this for you. I'm worried you've been tricked by this so-called Shaman. You don't understand my good intentions—yet you still defend an outsider?"
Dan Zhu shook his head firmly:
"Mister Shaman is a guest I personally invited. Since when do we kill our guests just for visiting?"
Dan Bie's gaze grew colder:
"You're still young, little brother. You don't understand how vile people's hearts can be. This man came to our Vermillion Sparrow Tribe likely with ulterior motives. You were deceived—used as a pawn."
But Dan Zhu still shook his head and defended Mo Hua:
"Third Brother, just because the facts aren't clear yet doesn't mean you can just kill someone over a suspicion."
Dan Bie had no more patience for back-and-forth. He turned to Mo Hua and asked:
"So? Do you agree? Will you risk your life—for the sake of your Divine Lord, and for your own honor?"
Mo Hua calmly nodded.
"I accept."
Dan Bie's heart lit up with joy.
Dan Zhu looked at Mo Hua anxiously, clearly blaming him for being too reckless. How could he agree to such a wager so easily?
It was obvious his third brother had set a trap.
And yet this "Mister Shaman" treated his life like a game.
Mo Hua, however, remained calm and unbothered.
The Great Chieftain, seated high above, still hadn't spoken a word since the beginning.
The hall's atmosphere turned heavy.
Dan Bie didn't give Mo Hua a chance to back out.
"Then the wager begins now."
He started mentally counting the time. Simultaneously, he turned to the young, handsome guard and ordered:
"Come stand beside me."
The guard did as instructed and moved to stand by Dan Bie's side.
Dan Bie then summoned several Golden Core elders. Each activated their magical treasures and surrounded the guard with layers of defense.
Magical artifacts floated in mid-air, spiritual energy filled the space, and the area was sealed so tightly that even a fly couldn't buzz through.
Dan Bie glanced at Mo Hua and sneered inwardly:
"He thinks he can just say 'he'll die' and make it true?"
"If this were a newborn baby, or someone half in the grave, I might worry…"
"But this is a young, strong guard, right here in the Vermillion Sparrow Tribe's main hall, protected by multiple Golden Core experts, under my very eyes—let's see how he dies in one day."
Dan Bie watched Mo Hua with amusement.
Mo Hua, meanwhile, remained composed and devout, making no further moves.
Dan Zhu furrowed his brows, his expression tense.
All the barbarian cultivators of the Vermilion Sparrow Tribe within the great hall showed various reactions, yet none spoke or made a move.
What was supposed to be a simple family banquet—Had now turned into a judgment of life and death.
This was supposed to be an ordinary family banquet.
Those invited were all relatives and close friends of the Grand Chieftain's line. Everyone should've chatted, eaten, and then gone on their way.
But now, a banquet that should've long ended had been dragged on endlessly because of the "incident" caused by Mo Hua.
And strangely, not a single person had left. Everyone stayed, as if compelled by something.
Even the Grand Chieftain sat with his slender-waisted concubine in his arms, nibbling on grapes like green jade, with an unreadable expression—neither joy nor anger—his thoughts a mystery.
The atmosphere in the hall was thick with unspoken thoughts.
In the silence, time flowed slowly.
Before anyone noticed, more than half a day had passed.
That young guard, still under the protection of many, remained safe and sound. But on his face occasionally surfaced some faint confusion, anxiety, and unease.
Mo Hua still sat like a meditating monk, as calm as an ancient well.
Dan Zhu glanced at Mo Hua, a tinge of regret flickering in his heart.
He had only meant well—hoping to introduce this "Mr. Wu," a man of sincere Dao-heart, unusual insight, and innovative thought, to his father.
Instead, the introduction had turned into calamity, bringing misfortune to Mr. Wu.
If he had known this would happen, he never would've brought him to the banquet.
"No matter what, this is my fault..." Dan Zhu silently admitted.
"This Mr. Wu is an extraordinary man—and my friend. Whether or not he truly is a Shaman, I must do everything in my power to protect his life. I won't allow Father or Third Brother to kill him. Otherwise, if someone dies because of me, I'll live the rest of my life consumed by guilt…"
Dan Zhu silently steeled his resolve.
On the other side, Mo Hua's expression remained unchanged.
But in truth, his mind had been murmuring nonstop.
It wasn't that he feared his Shaman identity being exposed and the Vermilion Sparrow Tribe wanting to kill him.
He had more than one identity—if one fell off, he could just make another.
And besides, killing him wouldn't be so easy.
In a third-grade province, if he wanted to run, he was confident he could escape.
What really intrigued Mo Hua… was the source of the young guard's death omen.
Yes, he was the fortune-teller, and yes, he had seen the omen himself—but what caused this karmic link? Why did this guard carry a sign of impending death? Mo Hua, being new here, truly had no clue.
What's more, this was the Vermilion Sparrow Tribe. Under the watchful eyes of several Golden Core cultivators.
The guard stood there, perfectly healthy. Not eating or drinking, just quietly standing.
Mo Hua, frankly, found it hard to believe a guard this young could just up and die without cause.
And yet… karma didn't lie.
Death omens didn't deceive.
If it had been a major figure involved, then sure, his calculations might have gone awry.
But for someone this minor, with his divine sense and derivative calculations, the result should be quite authoritative.
Still… how exactly would he die?
Mo Hua frowned slightly, a touch of confusion in his heart.
But no matter how much he pondered or calculated, time refused to wait.
The moon fell, the sun rose—and in this dull and slightly tense waiting, a full day quickly passed.
The guard remained exactly where he had been, alive and well.
No one killed him. No poison. No sickness. No qi deviation. No hidden danger.
And of course, Mo Hua wasn't going to kill the man himself just to prove his "prophecy" correct.
Especially not with all these eyes on him—making a move wasn't just inconvenient, it could stir up his own ill fate.
And so, the deadline for the "one-day prophecy" approached.
Only a little more than a cup of tea's time remained.
At that point, everyone began looking at Mo Hua with… rather complicated expressions.
Dan Bie's gaze held a frosty gleam. He was ready to act the moment time ran out, planning to suppress this "false shaman" whose prophecy had failed.
If Mo Hua dared resist, he would be executed on the spot.
Dan Zhu's eyes were solemn, already resolved to step in front of Mo Hua the moment things turned bad, determined to protect him completely.
The atmosphere turned increasingly oppressive.
Others looked at Mo Hua as though they were already staring at a dead man.
Just then, the Grand Chieftain—seated in the highest seat—suddenly stood up.
Under everyone's astonished gazes, he walked directly down from the platform, stretched out a palm as broad as a fan, and smashed the young guard's skull with a single slap.
The guard died in terror.
Gasps rippled through the hall. Everyone's expression shifted drastically.
Even Mo Hua's face changed slightly.
The Grand Chieftain had personally killed the guard with one slap… and then turned to look at Mo Hua, nodding calmly:
"Your prediction was accurate. He did, indeed, die within a day."
Mo Hua's pupils contracted—his heart filled with shock and confusion.
The Grand Chieftain… killed the guard himself?
Why?
He hadn't planted any kind of heart-demon or suggestion in him...
Just then, out of the corner of his eye, Mo Hua caught a glimpse of someone on the high platform—a beautiful concubine, face pale as paper, lips tightly pressed, body trembling slightly with a mix of fear and panic.
In that instant, Mo Hua's mind turned crystal clear.
An affair?!
That young, handsome guard—bold beyond reason—had secretly been involved with the Grand Chieftain's concubine.
So that's why the chieftain personally executed him with a slap.
Mo Hua's "prophecy" had conveniently provided the Grand Chieftain with the perfect excuse.
And the Grand Chieftain, in turn, had acted to fulfill that very prophecy.
In a certain twisted sense, it was a closed karmic loop.
Mo Hua's feelings were… complicated.
The Grand Chieftain then looked at him and said solemnly:
"Mr. Wu, from this day forward—you are an honored guest of the Vermilion Sparrow Tribe."
(End of this Chapter)