Chapter 1177: Bone-Carving Formation
Mo Hua's gaze narrowed slightly.
He had said before—this Great Wilderness was the stronghold of the Evil God. Logically speaking, there was no way it could be without the presence of an "Evil God."
Even if, according to legend, the Divine-Lord had gone silent and no longer responded, it was impossible for there to be not even the slightest trace of its aura.
He just didn't know whether this wisp of "Evil God" aura belonged to his old acquaintance—the Lord of the Great Wilderness—or to some newly risen Evil God.
Mo Hua sniffed again, then slowly shook his head.
What a pity—
The scent was far too faint. Even for him, an experienced "foodie," it was impossible to discern.
I'll have to find a way to figure out which Evil God this comes from… he thought silently.
He didn't linger, turning to leave the small cave and walking toward Dan-Zhu and the others.
Dan-Zhu asked, "Sir, in the cave—"
Mo Hua replied, "It's nothing."
The Shugu Tribe's leader, who had been wearing a dark and shifting expression, was stunned upon seeing Mo Hua walk out of the Barbarian God's cave unharmed. His heart wavered as he thought:
"Impossible! This is the sacred forbidden ground of Lord Barbarian God—how could you possibly be fine?"
"Impossible—"
"Lord Barbarian God is great, immortal, and inviolable. Could it be that he—"
The Shugu Tribe leader's faith wavered slightly.
He felt that perhaps this lofty Lord Barbarian God was not so untouchable after all.
But he quickly cast away such blasphemous thoughts.
"No, Lord Barbarian God is all-knowing and all-powerful. Lord Barbarian God will surely cast down a curse and kill this brat…"
The Shugu leader murmured in his heart.
Meanwhile, Dan-Zhu glanced at the scattered remains before him, and at the human arms and legs roasting above the bonfire. His stomach churned, and his heart ached.
These were all his Vermilion Sparrow Tribe people.
That his clansmen had ended up in such a miserable state—
"Gather the corpses of our tribesmen. Bury them together on the hillside and erect the tribe's memorial stone."
Dan-Zhu's tone was heavy.
"Yes, Young Master."
The rest of the warriors followed his instructions, collecting and burying the bodies together.
About half an hour later, the work was done.
Though heavy-hearted, Dan-Zhu also felt a slight relief.
This was his first time leading troops on a punitive expedition. Though the enemy wasn't particularly strong, he had completed the mission—wiping out the remaining forces of the Shugu Tribe and avenging his slaughtered people.
"Young Master, the matter is settled. Let us return to the main tribe and report to the Great Chieftain," Elder Ba-Chuan suggested.
"Mm." Dan-Zhu nodded.
Mo Hua, however, thought to himself—this would not do.
It had taken great effort to lure Dan-Zhu out of the Vermilion Sparrow Tribe; he couldn't let him just return so easily.
Otherwise, all his planning would be in vain.
The Barbarian Gods of the tier-three great tribes were heavily guarded.
If he wanted to "eat" such a tribe's Barbarian God, sneaking around would no longer work. He would have to take them down openly—through siege and conquest.
For that kind of large-scale, head-on warfare, Mo Hua alone had no chance. He had to rely on Dan-Zhu and the Vermilion Sparrow Tribe's power.
And Dan-Zhu—Young Master of the Vermilion Sparrow Tribe, a genius cultivator who had formed his Golden Core at twenty, clad in the treasure Vermilion Bird Mystic-Flame Feather Robe—was the perfect candidate for "conquering territory."
Not to mention, he currently had Golden Core guards and a barbarian general at his side, along with a hundred elite barbarian soldiers.
This was a formidable force—enough to run rampant through the tier-three mountain realms, as long as they avoided the main forces of the great tribes.
With this, Dan-Zhu could conquer tribes, expand territory, and grow power.
Then, they could improve livelihoods, spread education, and change the balance of the Great Wilderness.
Meanwhile, Mo Hua could quietly devour Barbarian Gods, strengthen his divine sense, and prepare for forming his Golden Core.
It was a plan with threefold benefits.
If Dan-Zhu returned to his tribe now, all of it would fall apart.
Mo Hua looked around and suddenly sensed something amiss.
"No… something's wrong."
Dan-Zhu looked puzzled. "Sir, what's wrong?"
Mo Hua said, "The numbers don't match."
"The numbers?"
Mo Hua's eyes narrowed. "The number of people used for making 'human roasts'—is too few."
The Shugu Tribe's survivors numbered only about six or seven, gathered around a single bonfire. Those six or seven could at most "eat" one person.
Even if they ate all day, they'd only go through thirty or forty people at most.
But they had taken far more Vermilion Sparrow tribesmen—at least a hundred—yet those people were nowhere to be seen.
Mo Hua shared his deduction.
Dan-Zhu was startled at first, but then looked at Mo Hua in astonishment.
This kind of cannibalism was simply revolting and cruel to him; it never occurred to him to count the missing people.
But Sir Wu, with just one glance, had calculated it all in detail. This extreme calmness gave Dan-Zhu an unexplainable chill.
Still, Mo Hua's words were good news for him.
"You mean, my Vermilion Sparrow Tribe still has about a hundred survivors?" Dan-Zhu asked.
Mo Hua nodded.
The other Vermilion Sparrow clansmen exchanged glances, feeling a faint hope.
After thinking for a moment, Mo Hua made his decision. He had the gag removed from the Shugu leader's mouth and asked:
"What's your name?"
The Shugu leader was still caught between his confusion over Mo Hua and his shaken faith in Lord Barbarian God. His expression darkened.
But Mo Hua's eyes were cold and commanding, so the leader slowly said:
"My name is—"
He spoke a string of guttural barbarian words.
Based on the meaning, Mo Hua guessed it was "Iron Shugu"—meaning "unyielding iron bones" in the barbarian tongue.
"Iron Shugu…" Mo Hua nodded. "Tell me—where did you send the other Vermilion Sparrow tribesmen?"
Iron Shugu's face changed; Mo Hua had clearly hit the mark.
But his mouth was still hard. "I don't know what you're talking about—"
Mo Hua stared at him with an indifferent gaze, thinking deeply.
Finding the Vermilion Sparrow survivors wouldn't be hard.
The problem was—next, he needed to "catch" an Evil God.
Evil Gods were never easy to catch—otherwise, they wouldn't be called Evil Gods.
That meant he needed bait—
Mo Hua's eyes shifted, narrowing slightly with a dangerous glint.
For some reason, Iron Shugu began trembling under Mo Hua's gaze, his bones rattling.
"Y-you—what are you going to do?"
Mo Hua turned away. "Lord Chi-Feng."
Chi Feng was silent for a moment before nodding. "Mister Wu."
Along the way, Mo Hua had displayed his skills in orientation, planning, speech, bearing, methods, and—just now—his ability to foresee and suppress Elder Ba-Shan's malicious intent in advance. Because of this, the barbarian general Chi Feng felt a bit more respect for him.
Although he might not truly believe Mo Hua was a Shaman, he knew that this "youth" who had gained the young master's recognition was certainly no ordinary person.
A capable person naturally deserved respect.
Thus, he also addressed Mo Hua as "Mister Wu."
Mo Hua then said, "Lord Chi Feng, break both of Iron Shugu's legs again—make sure the bones are exposed."
Iron Shugu's face turned pale with terror.
He couldn't understand what this vicious youth meant—his methods so cruel. Break the legs again after they'd already been broken? And expose the bones?
Iron Shugu cursed him in his heart, thinking Mo Hua was truly born a "evil spawn"!
Chi Feng hesitated for a moment, but didn't hold back.
The Shugu Tribe had invaded the Vermilion Sparrow Tribe, slaughtering their people—they deserved death.
War between tribes was cruel to begin with, and this Shugu Tribe leader named Iron Shugu was far from innocent. Just breaking his legs was already letting him off lightly.
Chi Feng, tall and strong, lifted his leg high and stomped down, completely snapping both of Iron Shugu's thigh bones.
The broken bones pierced through the flesh and were now visible.
Mo Hua, seeing the exposed bones, looked very satisfied.
Iron Shugu was in unbearable pain, cursing Mo Hua from head to toe in his mind, but with blood at the corner of his mouth, he couldn't utter a word.
Mo Hua asked again, "The question I asked you earlier—are you going to answer or not?"
Iron Shugu tried to open his mouth, but the pain was so intense he couldn't speak.
Mo Hua nodded slightly. "Good. Iron Shugu—your bones are hard, and your mouth is harder. Looks like unless you suffer a bit more, you won't talk."
After thinking for a moment, Mo Hua asked Chi Feng to drag Iron Shugu into a small cave.
Mo Hua took out formation-based torture devices, set them on the ground, and forced Iron Shugu to kneel on them.
The pain was so overwhelming that Iron Shugu no longer even had the energy to curse him.
Mo Hua's expression turned serious as he said to Dan Zhu and Chi Feng:
"We'll split up. You two go outside, check the Shugu Tribe's movements, and interrogate the other captives. This Iron Shugu—I'll handle the questioning myself."
Dan Zhu glanced at Mo Hua—who was calmly torturing Iron Shugu without so much as batting an eye—and suddenly felt this Mister Wu was a bit unfamiliar.
He was so different from the man in his memory, the one who always wore a compassionate expression, held goodwill in his heart, and advocated equality among the tribes.
One thought compassionate, the next thought merciless.
Dan Zhu's feelings were complicated.
Chi Feng didn't say much, only replied, "Then I'll trouble Mister Wu with this."
Dan Zhu thought for a moment and added, "Mister, be—careful—"
Mo Hua waved his hand. "Don't worry."
Once Dan Zhu and Chi Feng left, Iron Shugu was writhing in agony from the torture board. With the cave concealing them and no one else nearby, the timing was perfect.
Mo Hua looked at the exposed thigh bone and quietly took out a bottle of ink.
In his heart, he recalled the Great Wilderness bone-carving technique he had learned from "Mister Tu" in the Desolate Heaven Blood Sacrifice Grand Formation.
He combined it with the "Wood-White Gold-Jade" bone-forging method he had secretly obtained from the Bai Clan through the Great Void Sect Leader's backdoor help.
Then, controlling the ink with his spiritual sense, he began to covertly test drawing some formations directly on Iron Shugu's broken bone, using him as a "lab rat."
Without Iron Shugu knowing, the crimson spiritual ink transformed into fine threads, fluttered through the air, and slithered like tiny snakes onto his thigh bone.
The moment the first formation rune was "carved" into the bone—
A scream erupted, as if a pig were being slaughtered, echoing through the mountains.
Iron Shugu's face twisted hideously as he let out a cry of pain beyond words.
Even Mo Hua was startled, his ears ringing from the sound.
In the next instant, Iron Shugu fainted from the pain.
Mo Hua froze in place.
The next moment, Dan Zhu and Chi Feng rushed back in.
"Mister Wu, what happened—"
Then they saw Iron Shugu, still wearing his white-bone war paint, his face dark and grim, features twisted, drooling, and unconscious on the ground.
Mo Hua calmed himself, waved his hand, and said, "Nothing. I just used a little too much force—"
Dan Zhu looked from Iron Shugu to Mo Hua, deeply shocked. He could hardly imagine how heavy that "little too much" must have been to make a Golden Core cultivator scream like a slaughtered pig and pass out.
Chi Feng's eyelid twitched involuntarily.
"It's fine," Mo Hua said seriously. "I'll be gentler. You two go take care of your tasks."
"Mm—" Dan Zhu hesitated for a moment but didn't press further, then left.
Chi Feng just looked at Mo Hua, his expression involuntarily carrying a trace of fear.
After the two left, Mo Hua glanced at the unconscious Iron Shugu and couldn't help muttering to himself:
"Is drawing formations on bones really that painful?"
(TN: Casual Mo Hua)
He found it hard to believe.
So, he fed Iron Shugu a few blood-replenishing and pain-relieving pills, then used a few minor techniques to rouse him again.
Iron Shugu awoke groggily, his mind still in a haze.
Mo Hua drew another formation stroke on his bone.
The extreme pain returned instantly—Iron Shugu let out a scream, eyes bulging as if they were about to split, and fainted again.
Fortunately, Mo Hua had already set up a sound-isolating formation, so this time the pig-slaughtering scream didn't spread outside.
But Mo Hua's ears still ached from the impact.
Looking at Iron Shugu's state, Mo Hua let out a small huff and shook his head. "Looks like I was right—it really is painful."
Otherwise, there was no way this Golden Core-level, fanatically devoted, pain-tolerant Shugu Tribe leader—Iron Shugu, with his so-called "iron bones"—would faint outright.
"Drawing formations on bones is actually this painful… it's basically torture."
"Then what am I going to do?"
Mo Hua was dumbfounded.
When he will form his core, he would have to carve a complete Second-Grade, Twenty-Four Pattern Taotie Twelve-Meridian-Spiritual-Skeleton Formation into his own bones.
Just one stroke had sent Iron Shugu over the edge.
Forming his core would require twenty-four full Taotie patterns—how many strokes would that take?
Wouldn't that kill him from the pain alone?
Mo Hua sucked in a cold breath, his teeth chattering.
Thankfully, he had decided on the spur of the moment to test it on Iron Shugu's bones first. Otherwise, if he had foolishly started carving directly into his own bones, the pain might have killed him on the spot.
"What should I do?"
"Take some kind of anesthetic pill? Does that even exist?"
"Or… maybe I could just let myself faint, then continue carving my life-bound formation while unconscious—"
"But… I still have to draw the formation. If I'm unconscious, who's going to draw it for me?"
Mo Hua's head throbbed.
The path of cultivation was far too grueling. Even forming a core was unbearably difficult.
Sighing, he looked at Iron Shugu.
After a moment's thought, he decided not to wake him again, sparing him another round of the "bone-carving formation" torture.
After all, he wasn't truly a villain who took pleasure in tormenting others.
While Iron Shugu was still unconscious and unaware, Mo Hua carved some formation lines into his bones.
Then, Mo Hua planned to wait for him to wake.
But soon, he discovered another problem.
It seemed that because formations had been carved into his bones, Iron Shugu's blood essence was draining at an unusually fast rate.
Even his life force was constantly leaking away.
Mo Hua frowned.
He realized an even more serious issue:
Carving a life-bound formation into one's bones might be far more harmful to the Dao Body than he had previously imagined.
Not only was the process accompanied by unbearable pain, but it also destroyed the natural structure of the bones and meridians, causing massive loss of blood essence and life force.
The more formation lines, the greater the pain, the more damage to the bones—and the faster the loss of blood and life force.
Mo Hua's brows knit tighter and tighter.
This was no longer merely "troublesome." It was practically a "death tribulation."
If he couldn't solve the problem of blood essence depletion and life force loss, then carving a life-bound formation into his own bones would be no different from suicide.
If he died in the process, how could he even talk about forming a core?
Mo Hua let out a deep sigh.
Only through practice can one truly verify their understanding.
If he hadn't experimented on Iron Shugu, he never would have realized this problem.
No wonder some elders of the Great Void Sect always stressed that cultivation should be steady, that one should respect the ancient methods, seek reference points, and follow a mature, stable cultivation system.
Why did so many cultivators flock to the inheritances of great sects?
It wasn't just because those inheritances were of higher grade and greater power.
It was because great sects had existed for a long time, trained many cultivators, and included people of all spiritual roots, backgrounds, and talents.
With such a vast pool of cultivation cases and practical experience, almost every possible problem and hidden danger in the inheritance had been identified—then researched and resolved one by one by the sect's patriarchs and experts.
This allowed their disciples to walk a smooth path, avoiding fatal mistakes.
But if one walked an obscure path of cultivation—few practitioners, little experience, no one to guide them—the road ahead would be shrouded in uncertainty.
A single misstep could cause delays.
Two missteps, twice the delay.
A few more, and one might spend their entire life trapped in mediocrity.
Sometimes, a cultivation path might seem bright and promising at first—only to suddenly halt at a dead end, leaving no way forward.
Mo Hua's case was even more extreme.
He was walking the path of proving the Dao through Divine Sense—and not just any Dao, but a unique and special one.
There were almost no precedents to draw from, no examples to reference.
His future path was entirely covered in mist, with no telling where the thorns lay—or where the dead ends were.
He could only feel his way forward on his own.
And now, with only one feel forward, he had stumbled into a deep pit.
If this pit couldn't be filled, forget forming a Golden Core—he might even lose his life.
"Bone-carving formation, blood essence leaking, life force fading—"
Mo Hua felt a bit irritated and distracted, with no time to think it over carefully. Suddenly, he sensed a change in the aura of slaughter. Looking down, he saw that Iron Shugu's blood essence was flowing out, his life force was dissipating, his brow center had turned an ashen grey—he was clearly about to die.
Mo Hua was slightly startled.
This Iron Shugu couldn't die yet.
He still had his uses.
Moreover, once he died, Mo Hua would be burdened with the label of "Fate Killer."
Mo Hua shoved a handful of pills straight into Iron Shugu's mouth and poked them down with a twig.
Then he sprinkled some medicinal powder on his arms and legs to stop the bleeding, and even scattered some "Bone-Regrowth Powder" to help his bones knit back together.
After a while, Iron Shugu's life was indeed preserved.
Iron Shugu slowly drew a breath, and when he opened his eyes again to look at the Mo Hua before him, it was as if he were staring at a vicious ghost.
(End of this Chapter)