Chapter 1184: Tribal Structure and Faith
Mo Hua inwardly examined his divine sense and indeed felt that his spiritual awareness had become much fuller and sturdier than before.
At present, his divine sense was already stronger than that of the vast majority of early Golden Core cultivators.
What surprised him even more was that as his divine sense grew stronger, his fate-star seemed to have stabilized somewhat as well.
The baleful energy within his fate also became slightly suppressed.
Although this suppression was only the faintest trace.
If not for his recent days of keeping a pure heart, avoiding killing and bloodshed, saving many people and accumulating merit, keeping his mind clear, he would never have noticed it.
This gave Mo Hua an obvious revelation—
The higher one's realm, the stronger one's divine sense, and thus the greater one's resistance to the fate-star curse.
Mo Hua pondered for a moment and found it reasonable.
The reason his "fate-star" situation was nearly unsolvable might fundamentally be because his cultivation realm was still too low. With a shallow foundation, no matter how many heaven-defying methods he possessed, he could not properly wield them.
If his realm were higher and he possessed greater self-protection, naturally he would also have methods to resist the "fate-star."
Only… such a "natural" truth was obviously not so easily achieved.
Mo Hua sighed lightly.
The Dao is long and arduous, cultivation is difficult, and one cannot advance realms just because they wish to.
Even reaching Golden Core alone had already consumed so much of his effort.
Besides, even if his realm rose higher, could he truly contend with his Senior Uncle?
Mo Hua frowned, lacking confidence in his heart.
From the fate-star situation alone, it was clear that Senior Uncle was far too strong—so strong that Mo Hua even felt a faint trace of "despair."
Within the Qianxue State, he had not even met Senior Uncle face-to-face, yet was inexplicably burdened with a deadly fate-star curse of a ghost's entanglement. What was more terrifying—Mo Hua had never even seen Senior Uncle's "true body." Until now, all of his dealings had only been with a Trickster Daoist clone.
And even so, in a sense, he was already the person who had come closest to Senior Uncle.
Anyone else who saw that Trickster Daoist clone—whether righteous or demonic Nascent Soul Realmen—almost all perished.
If just a clone was like this…
Then what of Senior Uncle's true body?
Where did it reside? What form would it take?
Since Senior Uncle entered the Trickster Dao, had anyone truly seen his "true body"?
Across the entire cultivation world, cultivators who had seen Senior Uncle's true body and survived could not be many.
And Mo Hua had not forgotten—such a fearsome figure as his "Senior Uncle" was still only a mere Nascent Soul.
If the day came when he truly pierced through Nascent Soul, saw through illusions, and entered Hollow Void… how terrifying would he become then? Mo Hua even suspected—if Senior Uncle entered Hollow Void, with his countless sinister and strange Trickster Dao methods, then even the so-called "Great Evil Gods" of the world would hardly surpass him.
A chill crept over Mo Hua's heart.
Compared with Senior Uncle, he was indeed pitifully weak.
Calling himself a "small shrimp" would not be an exaggeration.
And the deeper Mo Hua studied divine sense and Trickster Dao methods, the more he realized how unfathomably terrifying his Senior Uncle truly was.
Back when he was only a teenager, he had even dared to snatch food from his Senior Uncle's bowl.
Now? He wouldn't dare even if he were beaten to death.
"No, I can't keep thinking about this…"
Mo Hua became alert, quickly cutting off the dangerous train of thought, refusing to compare himself with Senior Uncle any further.
He emptied his mind, suppressed all stray emotions, and completely forgot the wandering thoughts just now.
Only then did Mo Hua refocus on the present, considering his next move.
The most important thing was still to "consume" more thought-power, so that his divine sense would grow stronger.
Since he walked the path of proving Dao with divine sense, then the more divine sense, the better.
After some thought, Mo Hua left the stone chamber.
Outside, the burly Ba Shan was still guarding the entrance. When he saw Mo Hua come out, Ba Shan's expression brightened and he immediately asked:
"Master Wu, did the Divine-Lord give you revelation?"
Mo Hua paused, remembering that his excuse for this seclusion was "seeking the Divine-Lord's revelation."
So he put on a solemn face and said:
"I dreamt of the Divine-Lord, and the Divine-Lord has already given me revelation. I now know what must be done next."
Seeing Mo Hua's calm, dignified, and unfathomable demeanor—and hearing that he could directly receive the Divine-Lord's revelations—Ba Shan's heart was shaken. He felt both envy and reverence, and deeply blamed himself for ever doubting Mo Hua. He secretly swore that from now on he would always follow the Lord Shaman's orders to atone for his past mistakes.
Ba Shan said: "Ba Shan is willing to serve before and behind Lord Shaman's horse. If you have need, simply command."
Mo Hua appreciated this "knowing-one's-fault-and-correcting-it" nature. After a moment of thought, he said:
"Go call Iron Shugu here."
"Yes, Lord Shaman." Ba Shan replied.
Soon, Iron Shugu was brought before Mo Hua.
Ba Shan was efficient—he asked nothing unnecessary, only saluted respectfully and withdrew.
The stone chamber now held only Mo Hua and Iron Shugu.
Mo Hua studied Iron Shugu and was a little surprised.
Iron Shugu had "changed his face." The bone-paint on his face had been wiped off, his braids straightened, his Shugu Tribe attire replaced with Vermilion Sparrow Tribe clothing.
Now he no longer looked so sinister and "rebellious." Instead, he resembled an honest tribal elder.
Mo Hua's expression was subtle.
Indeed, many times the difference between people's outward appearances depended simply on hairstyle and makeup.
Without a special style or makeup, they all looked like ordinary folk.
This elder of the Shugu Tribe, without his eccentric disguise, looked even more "honest" than an honest man.
Of course, his arms and legs were still broken.
"M-Master Wu… did you call for me?"
With his bone paint removed, even his "persona" seemed erased. Iron Shugu had become much meeker, far more restrained, and even respectfully addressed Mo Hua as "Master Wu."
Mo Hua glanced at him, finding it a little odd.
But he did not dwell on it.
A wise man submits to circumstances.
For someone once known as "unyielding iron-boned," Iron Shugu's compliance saved much trouble.
Mo Hua asked: "Your Shugu Tribe—where is the main tribe? How many roaming tribes are there? And are there other secret tribes?"
Iron Shugu understood Mo Hua was probing for the Shugu Tribe's situation.
In the past, he would never have spoken. But now, under the eaves, he had no choice but to bow his head.
So Iron Shugu answered truthfully:
"Reporting to Lord Shaman, my Shugu Tribe has one main tribe, four major tribes. Beneath the major tribes, there are twelve branch tribes. Beneath the branches, nearly a hundred small tribes. Besides these, there are more than thirty outer tribes…"
"This is the formal tribal structure."
"In addition, there are roaming tribes, not part of the structure, constantly moving and without fixed location. And there are secret tribes, used to store resources and preserve confidential matters, whose locations are seldom revealed. The only secret tribe I know of is this one, where we worship the 'Barbarian God.' As for others, I know nothing at all…"
Mo Hua nodded slightly at these words.
The Shugu Tribe's internal structure was actually more complex than the Vermilion Sparrow Tribe's.
Yet from Mo Hua's research into barbarian history recorded in various tribes' scripts, the Shugu Tribe's system was actually the most "orthodox" and most complete barbarian institution.
The tribe's direct bloodlines were the major tribes.
Among these major tribes, the strongest, most prestigious, and most capable of leadership became the main tribe.
The main tribe's chief was the Great Chief of the entire tribe.
After the Great Chief's death, the position was inherited by another powerful figure from the main tribe or a major tribe, either through election—
Or, if no one could be "chosen," then by battle.
Whoever was strongest would have the final say.
asdf
The chieftain of the Main Tribe was the Great Chieftain of the entire tribe.
After the Great Chieftain's death, the position would be inherited by a strong individual elected from the Main Tribe, or from another Proper Tribe.
If they could not be "elected," then they would "fight."
Whoever was strongest had the final say.
Survival of the fittest—victory made one king. In the Great Wilderness, war was the most convincing form of "election."
Beneath the Proper Tribes were the Side Tribes, Minor Tribes, and Outer Tribes.
These tribes had no right to "elect." They could only depend on the Proper Tribes.
Unless their strength suddenly skyrocketed, allowing them to devour a Proper Tribe and annihilate the Main Tribe, they would remain subordinates for life, with little voice in the tribal hierarchy.
The Wandering Tribes and Secret Tribes were categorized by special traits and did not belong to the formal tribal system.
Thus, while the Great Wilderness appeared "barbaric," its inner system and rules of power were anything but simple.
Within the tribes, the order of strength generally followed this structure.
For example, among the tribes in a Grade-Three Mountain Realm:
The Main Tribe's power was undoubtedly the strongest.
The Great Chieftain's cultivation was at late Golden Core.
Beneath them, the Proper Tribe chieftains were usually at mid Golden Core or higher, with the occasional late Golden Core as well.
A Proper Tribe chieftain at late Golden Core already had the strength to contend for the Main Tribe.
Below them, the Side Tribe chieftains or some leaders only reached early Golden Core.
Lower still, the Minor and Outer Tribes had leaders whose cultivation at most reached Foundation Establishment.
Occasionally, someone from a Minor or Outer Tribe might break through to Golden Core, but such Golden Core cultivators would not remain in their original small tribe. Instead, they would enter the Proper Tribe or Main Tribe, taking positions as protectors or elder-guardians.
The two guardian elders by Dan Zhu's side, Ba Shan and Ba Chuan, came from small sub-tribes of the Vermilion Sparrow Tribe.
Thus, when Bi Jie sneered earlier that the low-born people of small tribes weren't worth saving—mocking Dan Zhu for risking his life to rescue members of those Minor Tribes—Elder Ba Shan had become furious.
Because Elder Ba Shan was from a Minor Tribe himself, he sympathized deeply with the plight of small-tribe barbarian cultivators.
This kind of complex relationship was something Mo Hua only managed to understand after long research.
In the Great Wilderness, tribes were many, power structures varied, customs and beliefs diverged, wars never ceased. With barbarian script and Dao Court script mixed together, cultivation systems shifting, and inheritances fragmented, everything was immensely convoluted.
Mo Hua had infiltrated the Great Wilderness as a "Shaman," embedding himself within major tribes, studying and gathering information for a long time before he finally understood these inner workings.
Anyone else—especially cultivators of the Dao Court—would have been utterly baffled.
If one knew nothing of the countless tribes' origins, identities, taboos, beliefs, and power structures, yet rashly joined in tribal wars and power struggles, they wouldn't even know how they'd provoked hatred—or why they were killed.
To thrive in the Great Wilderness, let alone reshape it, mastery of these realities was essential.
Mo Hua glanced again at Iron Shugu.
Iron Shugu's status was actually not low.
He was a leader of the Shugu Wandering Tribe.
With him, an early Golden Core leader, his Wandering Tribe could theoretically rank at the level of a Side Tribe.
The hierarchy was Main Tribe, Proper Tribe, then Side Tribe.
That was already no small power.
Of course, since Iron Shugu's tribe was a Wandering Tribe, roaming from place to place, in terms of territory, foundation, manpower, and military strength, it could not compare with a proper Side Tribe of the Shugu.
The one with true Side Tribe strength was instead the Shugu Secret Tribe that had just been conquered.
But the stockpile within this Shugu Secret Tribe was rather unusual.
Leaving aside other things, just the large amount of barbarian armor and demonic beast materials for military use made Mo Hua feel this was not the kind of reserve a normal Side Tribe could possess.
Still, military supplies weren't Mo Hua's immediate concern.
He continued questioning Iron Shugu: "How many barbarian gods does your Shugu Tribe worship, exactly?"
Iron Shugu replied firmly: "There is only one Barbarian God."
Mo Hua frowned slightly.
Only one? Then what was there for him to "devour"?
He asked again: "Is there truly only one… or is it just that your Wandering Tribe worships only this one?"
Iron Shugu looked puzzled.
He was a superstitious man.
Superstitious people did not question the gods they believed in.
The more devout, the less they understood what they actually worshipped—yet the more convinced they were of it.
Mo Hua sighed inwardly, then asked: "Among the other Proper Tribes, Side Tribes, Minor Tribes, even Wandering Tribes of the Shugu, do they also worship this so-called Barbarian God of yours?"
Iron Shugu nodded: "Of course."
Mo Hua pressed: "Then in worshipping this Barbarian God, do you all share the same rituals?"
Iron Shugu frowned, thought for a moment, then shook his head. "Not exactly the same—each tribe has differences…"
Mo Hua asked again: "And the statues? Are they the same?"
Iron Shugu shook his head. "Not the same."
Mo Hua was speechless. "The statues aren't even the same, and yet you all believe you worship the same Barbarian God?"
On this point, Iron Shugu had his own reasoning.
asdf
Mo Hua asked again, "And the statues? Are they the same?"
Iron Shugu shook his head. "No, they're different."
Mo Hua was speechless. "The statues are all different, yet you actually think you're worshiping the same Barbarian God?"
On this point, Iron Shugu had his own explanation.
With a solemn tone, he said, "The Barbarian God is the supreme deity. Mortal eyes cannot glimpse the true visage of the Barbarian God."
"Since no one can see the true body of the Barbarian God, naturally no one knows what he truly looks like."
"So, the thousands of people who each shape their own statues will, of course, make them all different."
"But this in no way affects our devotion to the Barbarian God."
"In the end, statues are only a form. When we worship a statue, we are not worshiping clay and stone, but through these different 'stone statues,' we pay respect to the one true God."
"Therefore, although the statues we worship differ, our devotion to the Barbarian God is the same. The Barbarian God we revere is the one and only deity…"
Iron Shugu's face was filled with absolute conviction.
Even Mo Hua, this "half-god," was momentarily stunned by his words.
He hadn't expected that such ignorant and superstitious people could, with their own minds, actually close the logical loop.
Clearly, they worship different statues.
Clearly, they revere different Barbarian Gods.
Yet they stubbornly believe that what they all worship is the same, sole "God"?
But thinking carefully, Mo Hua found that Iron Shugu's reasoning wasn't entirely wrong—there was even something… almost airtight about it. If not for the fact that Mo Hua had truly seen gods of heaven and earth with his own eyes, made friends with some, fought against evil gods, slain gods, and even eaten gods, he might almost have believed it too.
Mo Hua wanted to explain to Iron Shugu.
That so-called Barbarian God wasn't what they imagined.
What they worshiped wasn't the same existence at all.
But when the words reached his lips, he didn't know how to explain.
Perhaps these people only wanted to "believe" in some kind of existence. As for what exactly that was—they couldn't see it, and maybe they didn't care.
At the very least, this made Mo Hua realize one thing.
That within the Shugu Tribe, faith might look unified, but in truth it was fragmented, even completely unrelated.
It was simply: you believe yours, I believe mine.
Though each worshipped differently, everyone assumed they were worshipping the same god.
Mo Hua found this absurd—yet oddly reasonable.
This also meant that within the Shugu Tribe, there were actually multiple Barbarian Gods being worshipped.
These Barbarian Gods were sustained by the faith of their worshippers.
Now that the clansmen had begun to "eat" people, their faith had become corrupted, and naturally their gods would become corrupted as well.
The fall of the White-Bone Barbarian God in the Shugu Tribe's secret department implied that the other Barbarian Gods of the tribe likely wouldn't escape the same fate.
Mo Hua's eyes lit up.
A third-rank half-fallen Barbarian God was absolutely a great supplement.
Not too difficult to hunt, with relatively low risk.
From every perspective, it was the highest quality divine "food."
If he devoured another one, he might break through his bottleneck and step directly into the Twenty-Three Rune Divine Sense Realm.
If he ate a few more, with some luck, he could reach Twenty-Four Runes.
If fortune truly smiled on him and he managed to eat his way to Twenty-Four Runes, that would almost be a straight shot, a step away from Golden Core.
The thought made Mo Hua feel a trace of excitement.
Of course, the Shugu Tribe was a great tribe. Their Barbarian Gods couldn't possibly be left for him to devour freely.
Mo Hua pondered silently.
"Then… should I let Danzhu take the lead in conquering the Shugu Tribe?"
Forge a powerful barbarian army, break through the Shugu sub-tribes, invade their temples, and devour their Barbarian Gods?
If infiltration was impossible, then just go straight for the hard way?
The Shugu Tribe was already rotting anyway.
Their Barbarian Gods had already begun to fall into corruption in secret. If they weren't devoured soon, the entire tribe would go astray and plunge into eternal damnation.
Mo Hua gradually formed a plan.
Once his thoughts settled and his decision was made, he didn't say more. He simply told Iron Shugu:
"Alright, you may leave."
"Yes, Lord Shaman." Iron Shugu saluted Mo Hua, then limped away.
Watching him go, Mo Hua suddenly felt something was off.
"This Iron Shugu is too slippery. As the leader of a wandering Shugu band, how is he still alive and well?"
"But wait… wasn't it me who ordered that his life be spared? Why do I feel something is wrong?"
Mo Hua frowned, unable to figure it out.
"What exactly am I doubting…"
He shook his head.
Then he began to lay out his plans in his heart, preparing to proceed step by step toward conquering the Shugu Tribe.
Let Danzhu build up power, while he himself continued devouring Barbarian Gods, strengthening his divine sense, and steadily advancing toward Golden Core.
But before Mo Hua could finalize a strategy for attacking the Shugu Tribe—
The attack arrived first.
That night, around the Hai hour (9–11 pm).
Outside the stone hall, chaos suddenly erupted, the air thick with the stench of blood.
Barbarian soldiers carried in several corpses, dripping with fresh blood, their chests cleaved open by great blades, wounds still seething with a dark-green force.
The Bi Fang Tribe had launched a night raid—five elite warriors of the Vermilion Sparrow Tribe had been slain.
Countless others were seriously or lightly wounded.
(End of this Chapter)