Chapter 1174: The 'Ferocious-Beast' Takes Charge
The entire Vermilion Sparrow Tribe seethed with rage.
Their tribesmen had been slaughtered, and others captured to be used as barbarian slaves—an outright provocation to the tribe's honor.
The Shugu Tribe was a third-tier tribe within the "Vermilion Bird" mountain domain. Their strength was middling, unrelated by blood to the Vermilion Sparrow Tribe. Brutal and greedy by nature, they frequently clashed with others.
But before this, fights were just fights—skirmishes stayed within bounds. Nothing like this wholesale massacre of minor tribes, nor the audacity to seize Vermilion Sparrow clansmen as slaves.
It was a blatant act of humiliation.
And it crossed the Vermilion Sparrow Tribe's bottom line.
Everyone in the tribe was calling for vengeance—kill those Shugu bastards, eye for an eye, blood for blood.
Dan Zhu felt the same.
He sympathized with the fallen tribesmen and shared in the fury toward the shameless cruelty of the Shugu Tribe.
But this was not something he could intervene in.
Waging war, leading troops, making enemies with other tribes—his father had never permitted him to participate in such things.
Dan Zhu's hands were tied.
But Mo Hua quietly called him over and said, "Dan Zhu…"
After these past days, he and the young tribal heir had become familiar with each other.
He could call Dan Zhu by name instead of "young master," while Dan Zhu respectfully addressed him as "sir."
Mo Hua said, "Go to the Chieftain. Volunteer to lead the expedition against the Shugu nomads."
Dan Zhu was stunned.
It wasn't that he didn't want to—it just felt unrealistic.
Dan Zhu smiled bitterly. "I've tried before—asked Father to let me join a punitive campaign, fight off some bandits. But he always refused. Said my duty is to focus on cultivation and avoid worldly affairs, lest I run into... accidents."
Or fall victim to a hidden ambush.
After all, Dan Zhu—who reached Foundation Establishment at ten and formed a Golden Core at twenty—was freakishly gifted, as though favored by the heavens themselves.
And there were plenty of people in the mountain domain who wanted him dead.
Not just enemies of the Vermilion Sparrow Tribe—some allies, and even people within the tribe, were jealous and afraid of his talent, wishing him dead.
No one understood this better than the Chieftain.
That's why, no matter what happened, the Chieftain never allowed Dan Zhu to leave the tribe's territory.
Dan Zhu understood this too.
But Mo Hua said, "It's fine. This time, the Chieftain will agree."
Dan Zhu was skeptical. "Really?"
Mo Hua nodded calmly. "Absolutely."
Dan Zhu still hesitated.
But he did trust Mo Hua.
And deep down, he wanted to avenge the fallen—wanted to kill the enemy with his own hands and win justice for his tribe.
Worst case? He gets rejected again. Maybe a scolding from Father.
So Dan Zhu went alone to see the Chieftain and made his request.
Half a day later, he returned. Upon seeing Mo Hua, his expression was mixed—shocked, even:
"Father… actually agreed…"
Mo Hua's face remained calm, as if he expected this all along.
Dan Zhu sighed in amazement. "Sir, you really were right."
Then, still puzzled, he asked, "How did you know Father would let me lead troops this time?"
Mo Hua gave him a quiet look, thinking:
Because your father knows that you and your brothers will eventually turn on each other.
The more he shelters you, the more harm it brings.
Better to let you out—let you face the world.
If you can survive the dangers out there, grow stronger despite them, then he might truly consider passing the chieftainship to his youngest son.
Even if not, when the fight for succession comes, you'll at least have the strength to protect yourself.
And if you don't survive the storms… at least you died for the tribe, not by your brother's hand in some internal power struggle.
Of course, this sort of decision doesn't come easily.
Letting your most beloved son walk into danger—even death—surely tore at the Chieftain's heart.
If you hadn't gone to beg him, he never would've made that decision himself.
But now that you've chosen your path, your fate begins. The trials ahead are yours to meet.
And the Chieftain… must harden his heart.
Naturally, Mo Hua couldn't say any of that. He gave the standard prophetic answer:
"It was a revelation from the Divine-Lord. This journey is destined for you."
Dan Zhu looked at him strangely.
Sometimes, he genuinely couldn't tell if this youthful, handsome "Shaman" was just incredibly wise and insightful—or a full-on charlatan.
His words alternated between sharp, logical clarity… and murky, mystic mumbling.
Mo Hua paused, then asked, "When you spoke to the Chieftain, was the third young master there too?"
Dan Zhu nodded.
Mo Hua said, "His face didn't look good, did it?"
Dan Zhu replied, "Yeah. When I made the request, Third Brother seemed surprised. When Father actually agreed, his face turned… really bad."
Mo Hua glanced at Dan Zhu and sighed inwardly.
Dan Zhu was indeed sharp.
He instinctively picked up on these things—but his heart simply refused to think ill of others.
Mo Hua didn't say much more and simply instructed, "Gather your troops. Set out tonight. March through the night to strike the Shugu nomads."
Dan Zhu asked, "How many should I bring?"
He had very little experience in war.
Mo Hua replied with weighty meaning: "The more, the better."
Dan Zhu was startled. "But it's just a nomadic unit. They don't have many people. Do we really need that many troops?"
Mo Hua nodded with certainty. "Trust me. Bring everyone you can."
Seeing Mo Hua so serious, Dan Zhu realized this must be important—this Shaman clearly understood more than he did. After a moment's hesitation, he nodded:
"Alright. I'll follow your lead, sir."
…
Dan Zhu went to assemble the troops, and by evening, everything was ready.
The full force included: Dan Zhu, Mo Hua, and two Golden Core–stage guardian elders—Ba Shan and Ba Chuan.
Beyond that, there was a force of roughly a hundred tribal warriors, most of them at peak Foundation Establishment.
The Great Wilderness was not like the Dao Court.
The Dao Court forbade the private raising of armies—doing so was tantamount to treason.
But in the Great Wilderness, every tribe had its own barbarian soldiers.
Each tribe was essentially an independent "clan," constantly vying and warring with one another. Friction and battles were frequent. Without a standing force of barbarian soldiers, any tribe would eventually be swallowed up and reduced to slaves.
In short, in the Great Wilderness, every tribe was a military tribe.
Some tribes were simply too weak—lacking proper soldiers, weapons, or formation training. Their so-called "troops" were barely distinguishable from ordinary barbarian cultivators.
Tribes like Wutu and Wulu, small second-tier clans, fell into this category.
But the Vermilion Sparrow Tribe was different. Their barbarian soldiers were strong.
The squad following Dan Zhu on this expedition was fully armored and well-armed. Even if their gear wasn't the finest, the air of lethal discipline they exuded was unmistakable.
A little over a hundred wasn't a massive number—but it wasn't small either.
And more importantly, they were uniformly at peak Foundation Establishment.
That made them elite even by Vermilion Sparrow Tribe standards.
After all, Golden Core–level barbarian cultivators were promoted to elders or commanders—they wouldn't remain as rank-and-file troops.
So this group, in terms of combat strength, was formidable.
In fact, Dan Zhu himself couldn't have assembled a force like this alone.
Half of the soldiers were his own loyalists. The other half had been bestowed by the Chieftain.
And aside from the troops, the Chieftain had given Dan Zhu something else: Another man.
A mid-stage Golden Core barbarian general named Chi Feng.
With fiery red hair and a body covered in battle scars, he lived up to his name: a vanguard "barbarian general" who had once followed the Great Chieftain through countless campaigns, seasoned by blood and fire, a veteran of countless battles.
"Barbarian General" was a specific title—also a type of commander.
Anyone with sufficient high cultivation who could lead and command troops can be called a commander—but only those with distinguished military merit and have received official rewards could bear the title of "barbarian general".
Chi Feng was one of the Chieftain's most trusted barbarian generals. His assignment to Dan Zhu on this expedition, spoke volumes about the Chieftain's favor.
Together, this made up the full expedition force sent for the campaign against the Shugu Nomadic Tribe.
For this kind of mission, too many men would've been a burden. A hundred elite troops struck the perfect balance—powerful in direct combat, yet agile in maneuvering.
The barbarian troops gathered and greeted each other.
General Chi Feng saluted Dan Zhu.
Being a trusted subordinate of the Chieftain, he had interacted with Dan Zhu, the young master, before.
Meanwhile, Ba Shan and Ba Chuan—the two Golden Core bodyguard elders—saluted Chi Feng respectfully.
Their cultivation was a notch lower, their status inferior, and their battlefield accolades far fewer than Chi Feng's. So their deference was well justified.
As for Mo Hua—he stood like a man outside the system.
Chi Feng didn't greet him.
And Mo Hua didn't acknowledge Chi Feng either.
Within the Vermilion Sparrow Tribe, many didn't take this so-called "Shaman" seriously.
Anyone with eyes could see—Mo Hua was clearly not a real shaman.
He was just a good-looking fraud who'd used Dan Zhu to climb up the ranks.
People only stayed silent out of respect for the Chieftain's authority.
But someone like Chi Feng—a mid-Golden Core war veteran with real battlefield experience, someone even Dan Zhu had to show respect to—naturally didn't give Mo Hua the time of day.
In fact, simply ignoring Mo Hua was already the highest form of "courtesy" he was willing to show.
It wasn't just Chi Feng—Dan Zhu's own two Golden Core bodyguards, Ba Shan and Ba Chuan, also held doubts and resentment toward Mo Hua.
They had once been Dan Zhu's closest confidants.
But ever since Mo Hua's arrival, their importance had vanished.
To them, Mo Hua was like a cunning flatterer corrupting their young master.
And worst of all—the young master listened to him completely.
They were understandably displeased.
Mo Hua, of course, was fully aware of these little grudges and silent rejection—but he didn't care at all. He carried himself with an unbothered, leisurely air.
…
Once the troops were assembled, the group departed in high spirits, leaving the main Vermilion Sparrow settlement and heading northwest.
As just as Dan Zhu led the troops through the red Vermilion Bird gate and left the tribe, on a pavilion in the main compound, the third young master of the tribe, Dan Bie, stood watching with a complicated expression.
He could feel it—His little brother… was no longer the same.
Though thoughtful by nature, he could faintly sense that the two brothers had finally reached a crossroads.
This younger brother, whom he had truly loved since childhood, had grown up — and now, had become a significant threat.
A flicker of inner conflict and pain passed through Dan Bie's eyes.
Moments later, the lingering warmth in his heart was gradually twisted away, until it completely turned cold.
Dan Bie's expression grew increasingly indifferent.
Elsewhere, the burly and imposing Grand Chieftain also stood on a high platform, silently watching his youngest son leave.
This was Dan Zhu's first time leading troops into battle.
Dan Zhu was a genius in cultivation — that much was undeniable.
But leading soldiers into war… that was a different matter altogether.
Throughout the history of the Vermilion Sparrow Tribe, and even the Great Wilderness as a whole, there had been no shortage of young heroes — peerless prodigies with exceptional talent and sky-high expectations — who died on their very first campaign without earning a single merit.
Fate is cruel. Sometimes, it's downright absurd.
While alive, people might differ — some geniuses, some mediocrities.
But when it's time to die? Everyone dies the same.
As someone who had fought on the battlefield for many years, Grand Chieftain Dan Lie understood this better than anyone.
Back in the day, many of his comrades-in-arms were more talented than him, had stronger cultivation, and greater wisdom — but without exception, all of them died gruesome deaths on the battlefield.
Some even died in baffling, inexplicable ways.
Yet he — the seemingly unremarkable "big guy" — was the one who survived and became Grand Chieftain.
That's why he had always hesitated to let Dan Zhu take risks.
Dan Zhu's talent was indeed exceptional.
But once on the battlefield, you never knew what horrors you might face.
Blades, arrows, sinister tricks, ghostly arts, shamanic miasma, corrosive poison, curses, divine retribution…
The most terrifying among them — were certain venomous curse arts.
According to the ancestors, these curses involved illusory and mysterious causality, and could only be comprehended by those who had insight into the hidden Dao — true masters or rare prodigies.
If someone cursed your fate through causality, then every potentially fatal event around you would be amplified to its maximum effect.
A single blade — might suddenly sever your hand.
A stray arrow — might shoot straight through your eye.
A random spear thrust — could mistakenly pierce your heart.
Poison might invade your meridians and make you go berserk.
Miasma could cloud your divine sense and lead you to death.
Dangers that could've been avoided would "line up" around you, all determined to kill you.
Your luck would drop to zero.
And anything in your surroundings — no matter how minor — capable of ending your life, would inevitably show up to do just that.
And the battlefield, already full of unseen dangers and blind blades, was the perfect setting for such curse-based causal killing.
Of course, these curse arts were forbidden techniques. Very few people could learn them.
Learning one required decades, even centuries of dedication.
Casting one came at an exorbitant price.
Ordinary cultivators weren't even worthy of being cursed to death.
But Dan Zhu? Reached Foundation Establishment at ten, Golden Core at twenty — the most dazzling genius the Vermilion Sparrow Tribe had seen in centuries.
For such a genius, there were bound to be countless tribes willing to pay any price — sparing no expense — to eliminate him.
That's why the Grand Chieftain hadn't dared to let Dan Zhu leave before.
But now… he had no choice.
The situation had grown too tense. Many things were now out of even the Grand Chieftain's control…
The Grand Chieftain's gaze turned distant, looking toward his beloved youngest son Dan Zhu, standing among the ranks of the barbarian soldiers, his heart filled with emotion.
Then, his eyes shifted slightly, almost instinctively, toward the person beside Dan Zhu — Mo Hua.
The Grand Chieftain's brow furrowed even deeper.
One of the main reasons he agreed to let Dan Zhu lead the campaign against the Shugu Tribe — aside from tempering Dan Zhu — was precisely because of this so-called "Mister Wu", who carried himself like an experienced sage, yet wasn't even older than Dan Zhu.
It was only because of this "Mister Wu" that the Grand Chieftain agreed to let Dan Zhu go out and gain experience.
But ironically, the one he worried most about — was also this "Mister Wu".
This "Mister Wu" often stayed close to Dan Zhu, whispering heretical ideas, preaching "equality of all beings" — dangerously subversive nonsense — with unknown intent.
And Dan Zhu… actually believed him.
According to the Grand Chieftain's logic, a strange man who preached such heresy and bewitched his son ought to be killed immediately, before disaster struck.
But the Grand Chieftain didn't dare to act rashly.
Because this seemingly delusional "Mister Wu" had — on that day — exposed something deeply buried in his own heart, something no one else knew.
And whenever this "Mister Wu" stood beside Dan Zhu…
A line of prophecy, passed down from the Vermilion Sparrow Ancestor long ago, would uncontrollably echo in his mind:
"When the ferocious beast ascends the throne, the Vermilion Bird shall rise again."
The Grand Chieftain silently repeated that line, his gaze solemn.
He still couldn't understand how — in this age of decline, with the Dao Court pressing in, the royal court at war, tribal unity breaking down, and danger everywhere — the Vermilion Bird was supposed to "rise again."
And what did it mean, that the ferocious beast ascends the throne?
Weren't ferocious beasts ancient calamities, bringers of destruction?
When such beasts appeared, it usually meant heaven and earth would be torn apart. How could that lead to any "resurgence"?
And besides…
The Grand Chieftain looked again at the fair-skinned, clear-browed, handsome Mo Hua standing beside Dan Zhu — and found himself completely baffled.
"Where is the ferocious beast? Where is it supposed to be?"
...
The young master of the Vermilion Sparrow Tribe, the number one genius blessed by the heavens — Dan Zhu — was personally allowed by the Grand Chieftain to lead a campaign against their enemies.
This caused quite a stir within the tribe.
Both openly and secretly, countless eyes were watching Dan Zhu.
Many whispered in secret. And more than a few harbored hidden agendas, plotting who knows what.
As for Dan Zhu himself — his heart was far from calm.
This was his first time leaving the Vermilion Sparrow Tribe to lead troops into battle alone, to go and fight the enemy.
His heart was filled with a complex mix of excitement, passion, unease, anxiety, and nervousness.
But when he looked at Mo Hua, who stood calmly beside him, Dan Zhu found himself subconsciously influenced. His unsettled emotions gradually stabilized, and a similar sense of composure began to appear on him as well—mirroring Mo Hua's demeanor.
Behind them, the barbarian general Chi Feng silently observed the scene, his eyes showing a flicker of surprise.
The group continued their march without further words.
Dan Zhu, Mo Hua, and the others led over a hundred elite barbarian soldiers, heading northwest according to their planned route.
After roughly two hours of travel, night had fully fallen, and they arrived at a remote mountain outpost in the northwestern part of the Vermilion Sparrow territory.
This place had once been a small sub-tribal settlement.
But now—it was nothing but ruins.
The camp had collapsed, ashes were scattered everywhere, the ground was littered with severed limbs, and the stench of blood was overwhelming.
The elderly and children, deemed useless, had been slaughtered. The able-bodied youth, fit to be made into barbarian slaves, had been abducted. All valuables were looted without exception.
Seeing such atrocity with their own eyes, everyone from the Vermilion Sparrow Tribe was filled with righteous fury.
Mo Hua's gaze also turned cold.
Especially when he thought of those dead children.
He was a "Teacher" of the Great Wilderness. Those children—if they had lived—should've grown up under his guidance, nurtured into promising talents.
But amid the rage, a strange feeling suddenly stirred in Mo Hua's heart.
From this event… He felt a vague, inexplicable sense of familiarity.
(End of this Chapter)