Chapter 1180: Heading for "Death"
TN: The actual chapter name is Heading for "Death", but a Xianxia novel is incomplete without 'Courting Death'.
...
Chi-Feng stood still in place, silently releasing the aura of a mid-stage Golden Core cultivator to shield Dan-Zhu.
Dan-Zhu's expression was cold and stern.
Bi Jie's gaze flickered. "What? Your Vermilion Sparrow Tribe really intends to fight my Bifang Tribe?"
Dan-Zhu said calmly, "I've already told you, our Vermilion Sparrow Tribe only wants to save our people."
Bi Jie turned around and glanced at the stone hall behind him. "You mean to say that members of your Vermilion Sparrow Tribe are also inside this stone hall?"
Dan-Zhu replied, "We've searched every other part of this Shugu Tribe's secret territory and found nothing. The only place we haven't searched is this stone hall."
Bi Jie's eyes lit with sudden understanding, and he sneered.
"I see. So the Vermilion Sparrow Tribe is deliberately looking for trouble. Saving people is just a pretense. Your true aim is also to get inside this stone hall? Otherwise, for the mere lives of one or two hundred low-born tribesmen from a small tribe, would you really make such a fuss?"
Dan-Zhu felt there was no reasoning with Bi Jie.
Elder Ba-Shan beside him gave a cold snort. "Our Vermilion Sparrow Tribe is not like your wolf-hearted, dog-livered Bifang Tribe, willing to watch our people die without lifting a hand."
Bi Jie pointed his vicious blade at Ba-Shan, his expression feral, his tone mocking.
"And where did this lackey come from? I'm speaking to your master—do you think it's your turn to butt in?"
Elder Ba-Shan sneered coldly. "A thing like you is worthy to be compared with our Young Master? If not for those extra thirty or forty years you've managed to live, and the fluke of reaching mid-stage Golden Core, you wouldn't even qualify to carry our Young Master's shoes!"
"Dressing yourself in black feathers and pretending they're bird feathers—just because you've got a bird tattoo on your chest, you really think you're some kind of birdman? I'd say you're more like the mongrel feather your bastard father dropped into the world…"
The insult was venomous, and it silenced everyone around.
Bi Jie bared his teeth, rage boiling over, vision darkening as his head rang with a buzzing sound.
After delivering the insult, Elder Ba-Shan's hand trembled slightly. He secretly glanced toward Mo Hua.
These words weren't his own.
Besides, with his mind, he could never come up with such circuitous yet "sinister and vicious" insults.
Every line had been taught to him by Lord Shaman, who told him to spit them out word for word.
He was merely Lord Shaman's "mouthpiece."
Without Lord Shaman's "instructions," even with ten times his courage, he would never dare to insult the young master of another great tribe with such poisonous words.
That was why Elder Ba-Shan's heart was uneasy after finishing.
Mo Hua gave Ba-Shan a slight nod, signaling that he had done well and need not worry.
Only then did Ba-Shan quietly breathe a sigh of relief.
These words were originally what Mo Hua had wanted to say himself.
But unfortunately, as the "Shaman," he had to maintain his status and preserve the dignity of the Divine-Lord. He could not casually spew vulgarities, lest he tarnish the "solemn and benevolent" image he held in the Vermilion Sparrow Tribe, especially in Dan-Zhu's eyes.
Otherwise, he would have personally let loose and scolded Bi Jie until he couldn't live in peace.
After all, Elder Yu's legacy of insults wasn't learned for nothing.
Even without Mo Hua speaking, Bi Jie was enraged beyond measure.
His face was stripped of all smiles—no sneers, no mocking grins remained.
He was a genius of the Bifang Tribe; though his fame wasn't as great as Dan-Zhu's, his achievements were real, and no one had ever dared speak to him this way.
At once, Bi Jie activated the vicious blade in his hand—the Bifang Black Fiend Saber, an inherited treasure of the Bifang Tribe. Relying on his cultivation advantage and the saber's power, he intended to cut through the Vermilion Sparrow formation, first beheading Ba-Shan, then taking the chance to kill Dan-Zhu.
At the moment, there happened to be a "gap" in the Vermilion Sparrow formation—precisely where Dan-Zhu stood.
Bi Jie's experience told him clearly—
With his cultivation and ferocity, he could tear through that gap and rush inside.
Chi-Feng's position was also careless enough not to fully cover Dan-Zhu.
If he struck faster than Chi-Feng, his Black Fiend Saber could land on Dan-Zhu.
Under his suppression, Dan-Zhu's Vermilion Bird Feather Robe would never withstand the saber's edge.
Alternatively, he could feint at one of his guard elders to draw their attention, then suddenly switch and strike at Dan-Zhu—a perfectly valid plan.
Bi Jie had always been sharp-eyed at spotting opportunities and decisive in seizing them.
So when he saw this single flaw in the Vermilion Sparrow formation, he seized upon it without hesitation.
He was just about to act—
When an elder of the Bifang Tribe beside him tugged his sleeve.
Irritated, Bi Jie turned to snap—only to meet a pair of calm, gray eyes.
"Young Master, be calm."
Bi Jie instantly cooled down.
As the anger ebbed, his reason returned.
When he looked again at the Vermilion Sparrow formation and at Dan-Zhu's position, a chill crept into his heart.
It was a trap.
Dan-Zhu's side might look loosely guarded, riddled with gaps, but those "gaps" had been deliberately left.
If he mistook them for real openings and charged in, he would only fall into a deadly encirclement.
"First they provoke me with insults, then they leave an opening to lure me in—if I rashly took this 'opportunity,' I'd walk straight into their scheme… They even accounted for my temperament…"
A cold sweat prickled down his spine. Bi Jie looked at Dan-Zhu with a dark glare, cursing inwardly—
"This Dan-Zhu—his face looks pure, but who knew he'd be so insidious and calculating? I nearly fell for it…"
In the crowd, Mo Hua felt a twinge of regret.
This Bi Jie truly was capable—better to kill him early and save trouble.
The plan had been simple: use Dan-Zhu as bait, Elder Yu's insult techniques to anger Bi Jie, and his habit of seizing chances to lure him into the charge.
But before losing his reason entirely, Bi Jie had regained his senses.
To be cursed like that and still stay calm—he really wasn't simple.
After this invisible clash, Bi Jie now saw Dan-Zhu as "cunning and treacherous," far from his outward appearance. Wariness had taken root, and he no longer dared act rashly.
Killing Dan-Zhu was his own goal, but this expedition against the Shugu Tribe's secret territory held more important business.
Bi Jie said to Dan-Zhu in a low voice, "This stone hall is the Shugu Tribe's treasury—it holds many treasures inside.
"If you want to save your people, fine, I won't stop you. But the treasures within belong to my Bifang Tribe. Your Vermilion Sparrow Tribe must not touch so much as a single hair."
Dan-Zhu nodded. "Alright."
Dan-Zhu was kind-hearted and cared only for his people.
Mo Hua, however, while also kind-hearted, carried a small streak of greed—he cared for the Vermilion Sparrow tribesmen, but he also cared for those "treasures" Bi Jie had mentioned.
Still, with the current situation, he couldn't simply tell Dan-Zhu to seize the Shugu treasury.
Seeing Dan-Zhu's compliance, Bi Jie said no more. He turned and ordered several Bifang tribesmen dressed in long robes with blue feathered wings—clearly marked in special attire—to set up altars and draw an array to open the stone hall's gates.
Mo Hua's eyes flickered in surprise.
"This is also… a barbarian formation?"
"These people are… witch-cultivators (巫修)?"
The term "witch-cultivator" was one Mo Hua had learned in the Vermilion Sparrow Tribe.
In the Great Wilderness, body refiners were usually called "barbarian cultivators," or by the traditional tribal terms—warriors, barbarian soldiers, and the like.
Those who used spells were called "witch-cultivators."
But the concept of a witch-cultivator wasn't limited to ordinary spell cultivators.
First, witch-cultivators also used spells, but in the Great Wilderness their spells were called "witch-arts" or "witch-techniques."
These witch-techniques included the elemental laws of heaven and earth, but also mixed in strange methods involving beast blood, human souls, ghostly spirits, and other sinister arts—sometimes even poisons, gu-insects, and other forbidden practices, making them neither wholly righteous nor wholly evil.
One reason Mo Hua stayed in the background and avoided casting too many spells was precisely this—
In the eyes of small-tribe cultivators, his fireball, tinged with Slaughter Qi, burning red with black, looked much like a witch-art.
But in a third-grade great tribe, the experienced eyes could easily tell the difference.
The Dao Court and the Great Wilderness cultivation systems had been "integrated" to some degree, moving toward unification, but many details still differed.
Beyond "witch-arts" and "witch-techniques," any barbarian cultivator skilled in formations, talisman arts, or alchemy could also be called a witch-cultivator. In the Great Wilderness, formations, talismans, and pill arts all fell under "witch-arts," so those who studied them were witch-cultivators.
However, those who specialized in forging—especially forging barbarian armor—were not called "Witch-cultivators"(巫修).
Such forging skills were mostly held by tribe elders, particularly the Great Elders.
As a result, in the Great Wilderness, many artifact refiners were, in fact, tribal elders.
And "Shamans" (巫祝) were something else entirely.
Although "Witch-Cultivators." (巫修) and "Shaman" (巫祝) differed by only one character, in the Great Wilderness, their status was worlds apart.
As for the exact differences, Mo Hua himself couldn't say for sure—after all, his identity as a "Shaman" was actually fake.
He had never received the formal inheritance of a Shaman; the few scattered techniques he had were self-taught through trial and error. He might possess the strength of a Shaman, but he lacked the official title.
Thus, every time he revealed his Shaman methods, he had to be extremely cautious.
The inheritance system in the Great Wilderness was complicated and messy, and Mo Hua was still in the stage of feeling his way around.
At present, these "Witch-Cultivators" from the Bifang Tribe were among the few "Formation Witches" Mo Hua had encountered in the Great Wilderness.
And indeed, they were setting up a type of formation.
Mo Hua's gaze deepened slightly. Using the Heavenly Secret Derivative Algorithm to deduce their patterns and flows, he found that the formation they were drawing was indeed a variant of the Four Symbols Demon Patterns.
Yet, even to Mo Hua these particular Four Symbols patterns appeared obscure at first glance.
This meant that the Bifang Tribe possessed their own unique lineage of Four Symbols formation inheritance.
Moreover, the fact that they were using this formation to break the gate of the Shugu Tribe's hall showed they had come well-prepared—and had likely been eyeing the Shugu Tribe for quite some time…
Mo Hua pondered silently.
Before long, a flash of dark-green beast patterns appeared.
The seal on the stone hall's gate was undone.
Two elders of the Bifang Tribe stepped forward, one on each side, and pushed the gate open.
ghj
Inside, an eerie wind blew, accompanied by voices filled with fear.
Mo Hua's expression changed slightly—he caught an unusually cold and alien scent coming from within.
"Evil god…"
"So it really… has fallen."
His eyes lit up faintly, his soul stirring hungrily, restless with anticipation.
This aura of an evil god was something Mo Hua knew very well—and was extremely sensitive to.
The others, however, were different. Only a few with sharp divine sense felt a slight chill and became faintly alert. Most remained completely unaware.
Bi Jie's eyes glinted greedily, whatever thoughts he harbored only he knew, and he immediately ordered loudly:
"Enter the hall!"
Bi Jie led several elders of the Bifang Tribe toward the stone hall.
Dan-Zhu was about to shout: "Stop!"
But Mo Hua quickly tugged at Dan-Zhu's sleeve, signaling him to keep silent.
Dan-Zhu closed his mouth.
But, Bi Jie was a very suspicious man. Seeing Dan-Zhu hold back, he grew wary.
The Vermilion Sparrow Tribe had been eager to compete with him to enter the hall—so why were they suddenly so quiet now that it was open?
The more he thought about it, the more something felt off.
Suddenly, he barked, "Wait!"
The Bifang tribesmen stopped. Bi Jie also halted, thinking for a moment before saying:
"Don't rush in. Guard the outside. I…"
Originally, he meant to say, "I'll bring a few elders in…"
But the words caught in his throat.
With the Vermilion Sparrow Tribe harboring murderous intent toward him, surrounding them outside, and the interior of the hall uncertain, charging in himself as the Young Master could mean disaster—attacked from both sides, with little chance of survival.
Instead, he named two elders: "Elder Cang, Elder Zhuo—you take a team and go in to scout the situation."
Elder Cang was short and stocky, Elder Zhuo thin and gaunt—both were at the Golden Core stage, their cultivation formidable.
The two clasped their fists and said:
"Yes, Young Master."
Then, leading more than twenty Bifang warriors, they stepped through the stone gate into the dark, acrid interior of the Shugu Tribe's hall.
Bi Jie remained outside with the main force, wary of the Vermilion Sparrow Tribe.
Mo Hua secretly felt it was a pity.
If Bi Jie had personally led the Bifang Tribe's Golden Cores into a hall filled with the aura of an evil god, now that would have been interesting.
Unfortunately, Bi Jie was far too cautious.
Ba Shan looked around anxiously and asked, "Sir, should we rush in now and take a look too?"
The Vermilion Sparrow tribesmen were most likely imprisoned in that hall.
And if the Bifang Tribe was so fixated on it, there must also be good treasures inside.
Mo Hua, however, said firmly: "No."
Dan-Zhu looked puzzled. "Sir, inside this stone hall…"
Mo Hua shook his head. "Not yet. You'll understand soon enough."
The group from the Vermilion Sparrow Tribe exchanged confused glances.
But with Mo Hua's instructions, they didn't act rashly, instead standing guard quietly outside the stone hall, facing the Bi Fang Tribe in a tense standoff. Sunlight hit the cliff, casting a cool shadow.
They waited like that, time slowly passing.
Before long, the cool shade in the mountains turned into a creeping irritability, making it uncomfortable to stand still.
Ever since the Bi Fang Tribe's two Golden Cores had led twenty barbarian soldiers into the stone hall, it was as if they had sunk into the sea—an entire hour passed with not the slightest response.
The Bi Fang Tribe's young master, Bi Jie, grew restless.
The crowd couldn't help murmuring among themselves.
Another stick of incense later, footsteps suddenly echoed from within the pitch-black stone hall. A figure emerged step by step. He looked… familiar.
It was the short, stocky Elder Cang who had gone in earlier.
Bi Jie, anxious, quickly asked, "Elder Cang, what happened in there? Why were you delayed so lo—"
Before he could finish, his expression twisted in shock.
By now, Elder Cang had reached the doorway, and sunlight from the cliff shone down, letting everyone see his appearance clearly.
The flesh of his thigh had been torn away, leaving only white bone.
Half his cheek had been bitten off.
A gaping hole yawned in his chest, his organs nearly hollowed out.
He looked utterly miserable.
Every barbarian cultivator present—whether from the Bi Fang Tribe or the Vermillion Sparrow Tribe—turned pale.
The sound of people drawing sharp breaths came one after another.
They were all tribal cultivators, most seasoned in battle, and had seen bloodier, more gruesome scenes before.
But those scenes came from straightforward combat.
This… this had a chilling, sinister feeling entirely unlike the battlefield.
Even Mo Hua felt a faint chill in his heart.
He knew the stone hall likely hid a vicious evil god. These people had gone in completely unprepared, so it was highly likely they'd meet a bad end—at the very least, they would suffer.
But Mo Hua hadn't expected that the evil god could be this savage…
He frowned slightly.
Bi Jie, horrified, asked urgently, "Elder Cang, what exactly happened?!"
Yet he only dared to call out from a distance, not approaching.
Elder Cang's bloodied, mangled form exuded a strange, eerie aura. His face was half terror, half despair, and he bared his teeth to speak:
"All dead…"
"All… eating…"
"I… killed Elder Zhuo, because he tried to eat me… and I… ate him…"
As he spoke, Elder Cang felt his life slipping away. He tried to activate a protective treasure, but as soon as the jade bracelet lit up, mottled stains appeared on it—it seemed the entire artifact had been corrupted.
Bi Jie stood stunned.
Elder Cang gave a bitter smile, knowing he couldn't be saved. With his final breath, he said grimly to Bi Jie:
"There's a great evil inside the stone hall… Young Master… take care…"
Before he could finish, his treasure dimmed, and Elder Cang died on the spot.
Bi Jie's face turned pale white.
The whole area fell silent, followed by an uproar of fear and shock.
A Golden Core elder… had just died.
And in such an unclear, horrifying way…
They didn't even know exactly what had happened.
In the midst of the commotion, Mo Hua's gaze flickered. He suddenly glanced toward Chi Feng, jerked his chin toward Bi Jie, and whispered, "Can we kill him?"
Chi Feng blinked, then instantly understood.
Now, with two Golden Cores and twenty elite barbarian soldiers of the Bi Fang Tribe dead in this strange stone hall, their strength had greatly diminished.
Meanwhile, the Vermillion Sparrow Tribe had suffered no losses. At this moment, with the enemy weakened and themselves strong, if they struck suddenly, they might just threaten the Bi Fang Tribe's talented yet ruthless young master—Bi Jie.
This 'Mr. Wu' really has a sharp mind… and quick calculations…
Chi Feng couldn't help feeling tempted.
Kill Bi Jie…
But as he was thinking this, Bi Jie in the distance seemed to sense a killing intent.
Not good!
He immediately forgot about mourning Elder Cang or worrying over his dead tribesmen, and instead barked a deep command:
"Bi Fang Tribe, hear me! Tighten formation—protect me!"
The Bi Fang Tribe's barbarian soldiers, snapping out of their shock, followed the order at once, forming ranks and enclosing Bi Jie at the center.
The remaining two elders also stood guard by his side, wary of anyone breaking through to kill their young master.
The chance to kill Bi Jie was gone.
Mo Hua clicked his tongue, then felt a bit unsettled.
This Bi Fang Tribe's young master seemed far too sensitive to killing intent.
Almost as soon as Mo Hua opened his mouth to suggest an attack, Bi Jie had noticed.
Meanwhile, Bi Jie's eyes flickered, unease gnawing at him.
'Who is it, that keeps stirring killing intent against me? Trying to find a chance to harm me?'
'Is it Dan Zhu? Could he really have such a vicious mind?'
Bi Jie was somewhat puzzled.
For now, the situation was at a temporary stalemate.
The Vermillion Sparrow Tribe had killing intent.
The Bi Fang Tribe stood in strict formation.
No one made a move, but no one dared to relax.
The Bi Fang Tribe had suffered greatly, losing two full Golden Cores, and naturally did not dare to act recklessly.
As for the Vermillion Sparrow Tribe, although they now held the advantage in strength, without the chance to ambush and kill Bi Jie, they had no reason to start a direct conflict with the Bi Fang Tribe.
After a moment, Bi Jie's thoughts stirred, and he said to Dan Zhu:
"We agreed—our well water does not mix with your river water. Let's keep the peace.
Now, your Vermillion Sparrow Tribe can go in and rescue your people. My Bi Fang Tribe will not stop you."
Dan Zhu frowned.
He was kindhearted and lacked experience, but he wasn't a fool.
After spending enough time with Mo Hua, Dan Zhu had developed a few "cunning" thoughts of his own. How could he not realize at this moment that Bi Jie was trying to set him up? Inside the stone hall lurked an unknown, terrifying danger. Even Golden Core elders from the Bi Fang Tribe had gone in and died without a trace.
What good could the Vermillion Sparrow Tribe expect to find there?
As the young master, he certainly could not risk himself.
And sending Chi Feng, Ba Shan, and Ba Chuan—the tribe's three Golden Cores—into the stone hall? Dan Zhu would not be at ease.
Even if the stone hall were safe and the three could come back unharmed…
In the time they were inside, Bi Jie would surely find a way to kill him.
This was exactly the "awareness born from adversity" that Mr. Wu had taught him—
At every moment, value your own life above all else. Whenever you see bad people, guard against them trying to harm you.
Dan Zhu kept that firmly in mind.
So for now, he could only hold his position.
Leaving the stone hall was impossible—if they couldn't rescue their people, they'd just be letting the Bi Fang Tribe do as they pleased.
But going into the stone hall was even more impossible—
It was a place of great calamity. Even a Golden Core entering had a nine-in-ten chance of dying.
Still, Dan Zhu knew that this kind of stalemate could not last forever.
Just then, a heavy yet gentle voice sounded:
"I'll go in…"
Dan Zhu was stunned. He turned to look at Mo Hua, his face filled with disbelief. "Mr. Wu, you…"
Mo Hua's face was solemn and serious, carrying an air of fearless resolve—boldly stepping forward to face death, with the spirit of if not me, then who.
His tone was grave as he said:
"I can feel that within the stone hall ahead lurks an enemy of the Divine-Lord—a heretic to the gods.
As a Shaman, it is my duty to eradicate evil, purge corruption, and spread the Divine-Lord's grace. Even if it means my death, I—"
Mo Hua paused, then slightly lifted his head to gaze at the sky, a look of firm, tragic determination on his face.
The Bi Fang Tribe members looked at Mo Hua, each one shaken and silent.
Ba Shan and Ba Chuan both felt an involuntary surge of respect.
Even the barbarian general Chi Feng, who hadn't thought much of this "Mr. Wu" before, felt a jolt in his heart, and developed a trace of genuine admiration.
(End of this Chapter)